Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, Series 2

Oz:
You know the reason I left this country in the first place, divven't you, eh? I'll tell you. In a word, Margaret bloody Thatcher, that's why. Because I'd had it, I was up to there with what she'd created. Bloody wasteland. Desolate. Nae joy, nae hope, nae nowt. Where kids get to 21 and have never done a day's work in their life. Honest men have to go out thieving to feed their families. Young bairns can buy heroin in the bike sheds at school. Oh, dear. But I thought, "Nah, nah, nah. It's got to be getting better. It cannae be as bad as what it was, can it?" I was willing to give you lot the benefit of the doubt on this one, yer kna. But nah, nah, nah. What happens? What happens is I've been back on my native soil for fourteen minutes, and I'm subjected to this act of fascist intimidation! 'Cos that's what it is, yer kna! That's what it is, and I'll be writing to my MP about this!

Customs Officer:
Spread.

Oz:
What do you think you're going to find up there, eh? A new striker for Newcastle United?

Dennis:
I heard you got thrown off the Falklands.

Oz:
Oh, you heard about that! Aye, what'd it say on the charge sheet? "The first person to be forcably ejected since the Argentinians."

Wayne:
Moxey's right, we're embarking on a great new adventure. We're the magnificent seven and Dennis is Yul Brynner!

Oz:
' Aye, he's got aboot the same amount of hair like.

Dennis:
Aye, very funny. Look, we're not going off to repel some marauding mexicans yer know!

Annoyed householder:
What are you doing annoying my dog for? What are you doing here?

Barry:
Everybody's got to be somewhere, sir.

Barry:
I...I...I've just seen a ghost, Moxey.

Moxey:
BRENDAN! I've just seen a ghost, BRENDAN!

Moxey:
Would it be alright like, if I took some drinks out to my kids?

Pringle:
Yes, I don't see why not, as long as they don't break any glasses.

Moxey:
Oh no, they're good kids.

Pringle:
OK, so what'll it be? Coke? Orange juice?

Moxey:
Five pints of bitter. They're growing lads.

Pringle:
They must be. Tell me are you Irish by any chance?

Moxey:
Yes, I am as a matter of fact. Brendan Mulcahy's the name.

Pringle:
Well you can piss off, I don't serve Micks.

Oz:
The rasta's drive about in BMWs, y'know, 'cause they think it stands for Bob Marley and the Wailers.

Oz:
Y'know the difference between a hedgehog and a Range Rover, don't ya?

Dennis:
No.

Oz:
A hedgehog's got pricks on the outside.

[telephone conversation]

Dennis:
Barry? Where are you?

Barry:
I've no idea, mate. It's taken me bloody half an hour to find a phone box that hasn't been vandalised.

Dennis:
Oh, you're in Newcastle?

Wayne:
Here, you don't happen to know the Norwegian for "Can I get into your knickers?"

Detective:
If this weren't Spain, Albert Arthur Moxey, alias Brendan Mulcahy, arsonist and absconder - your arse would be well and truly nicked.

Barry:
I must admit, Oz, after the disappointment of not getting to Saudi, I had grave misgivings about joining you in the Falklands, mate.

Oz:
Oh? Why's that, then?

Barry:
I'd seen the pictures on the television, and I'd read all the papers and stuff. I knew there was no amenities, as such, but what I was really worried about was I heard about this animosity from the locals towards the itinerant workforce.

Oz:
Nah, we get nae trouble from the Bennys, do wa?

Paddy:
No.

Barry:
Bennys?

Paddy:
Benny in Crossroads.

Barry:
Yeah?

Oz:
Benny, man. Yer kna, the duck egg, the thicket. He's the stupid one, isn'he? That's what we call the locals.

Barry; Oh, yeah. Oh, I see. Yeah. Yeah... And of course, another thing I heard was that some of our lads go a bit potty out here, you know, with the solitude and the wind, right.

Paddy:
Who told you that?

Barry:
I think it was The Sunday People, actually. I was readin' that apparently some British brickies found some old Argentinian machine guns and went absolutely berserk and started letting 'em off at each other!

Oz:
Yeah, well, you'll always get the occasional lunatic, won't yer?

Paddy:
D'you like a bit of sport, Barry?

Barry:
Yes, I do, actually. Especially table tennis.

Paddy:
We have races. Don't we, Oz?

Oz:
[Catching on] Oh, aye. Aye, we do, Paddy. Aye. Just for a ten spot, like. Kill a bit of time, yer kna? Are ya up for it?

Barry:
Yeah, yeah. Count me in. A bit of fun, innit?

Oz:
Oh aye, it's a bit of fun. Follow me. [Oz, Paddy and Barry climb through some barbed wire.] Right, get yer dough out. I'll hold on to the kitty. [Barry and Paddy each give Oz a tenner. To Barry] You've still got English money? [Pockets the money.]

Barry:
Um... how far do we race, actually?

Oz:
We start here, right? And we finish just at the opposite side of the minefield, right? Go! [Oz and Paddy run off to the other side, while Barry remains rooted to the ground having realised he'd stepped into a minefield!]

Barry:
D'you know what Sugden's have just told me?

Trevor:
Oi, I was listening to that!

Barry:
They just told me they can't deliver the radiators till the end of the month! And I'm not a punter, Trevor, I'm trade. You think that'd mean something. [He puts the broken skirting boards down] Oh, no, no, no.

Trevor:
They're giving you a discount.

Barry:
What good's a discount if they can't guarantee delivery? [He sighs as he marks items off a clipboard on the wall] Without the radiators, I can't start the decoration, I can't lay the bloody carpet.

Trevor:
Well get the roof on before you start worrying about the carpets.

Barry:
It's a nightmare! I said to Hazel - it was back in January - "Haze", I said, "by the time your wedding day comes round, the home of your dreams will be ready and waiting for you." If it isn't... I don't think she'll marry me.

Trevor:
D'you know, a place this size could house about eight homeless families.

Barry:
Oh, don't give me any of your Militant claptrap, Trevor! I sweated blood to buy this place.

Trevor:
Ah, the Falklands(!)

Barry:
Not just the Falklands, thank you. I was in Germany before that. Yeah, we roughed it, we did. Düsseldorf in January's no picnic, I can tell you, mate. Ere, hang on... [He reaches into a box and picks up a framed photo he had taken of the Magnificent Seven on their last day in Düsseldorf.] Awww, ha-ha, here we are. Look at this! [He shows the photo to Trevor]

Trevor:
Desperate looking bunch.

Barry:
[Offended] Do you mind!? Salt of the earth, these lads. We were known as The Magnificent Seven.

Trevor:
What? Throughout Germany?

Barry:
No, in our hut, amongst ourselves, like. Yes... [chuckles as he looks at the picture and points to the people in the photo] There's Bomber. Strong as an ox, gentle as a kitten. Wayne, oh ho! No Fräulein was safe from Bavaria to the Baltic with this one, mate. That's, er... that's Dennis. He was our anchor, Trev. And er... yes, that's Neville, yes. Next to me. A bit of a worrier, Nev, but he'd give you the shirt off his back. Come to think of it... [checks his shirt] I think this is his shirt actually.

Trevor:
Who's that mad looking maniac there? [points to the picture]

Barry:
Oz. He was in the Falklands with me. The first person to be thrown off the islands since we saw the Argies off. Ahh... the last one's Moxey. He was an arsonist from Kirkby. [sighs] Oh, happy days! [He places the photo on the ]

Trevor:
How long is it since you've seen these mates of yours then?

Barry:
The day we took the picture.

Trevor:
[Sneerily] So you're really close(!)

Barry:
Ere, ere, ere, oi! It's not like that. Friendship forged in adversity. That's there for life, that is! Look, each one of us knows that if the chips were down, if we were in dire straits, like, all they'd have to do is to send out an S.O.S. and the others would down tools and come running. [He takes a step, and his foot goes through the floorboard] Bloody hell!

Trevor:
I'll tell ya something, if you ever wanna get this place finished, you'll have to look your mates up again.

Moxey:
It's a bloody miracle this letter ever reached us. They sent it to me old address, who sent it to the steamship company, who sent it to me mother, who sent it here.

Syd:
Was he a good mate, this Barry?

Moxey:
We were in Germany together. Didn't have a lot in common with 'im, really, 'cept acne.

Syd:
His must have cleared up if he's getting married.

Moxey:
I'd still like to be there, though. See the lads. Reminisce about all the manky times we had in that craphole.

Syd:
You're a bit of a sentimentalist at heart, Mox.

Moxey:
Yeah. S'pose I am, really.

Galloway:
Move your arses, you two!

Moxey:
Just takin' a well-earned break, Mr. Galloway.

Galloway:
You will finish this place by nightfall. Even if it takes 'til tomorrow morning! Is that understood?

Moxey:
Crystal clear, sir. [Galloway closes the cell door. Moxey and Syd get back to work.] I'll send 'im a postcard.

Syd:
If he's a really good mate, maybe he'll put the wedding back a year.

Wayne:
[On the phone] Barry? ...It's Wayne. Yeah! [Laughs] How are ya, my son? ...Congratulations! Always had faith in you, Barry, no matter what the rest of 'em said! I'd like to think my counselling may have contributed to this startling development! ...I'm on me way, son. I'm on me way. ...I dunno, some naff caff up the M1. ...'Ere, don't you start without me, will ya? ...Of course I won't embarrass your Hazel. I'm a married man meself now, ain't I? ...Yeah. Two years. Changed character, Barry. ...I dunno, about six I should reckon. Your round. Catch you later!

Wayne:
All right, girls? [They stop and turn round.] Which way are you going then, eh? D'you need a ride?

Pippa:
Erm... Fishguard. Is that on your way?

Wayne:
...It's near enough, innit? [They get in the back seat of Wayne's car.]

Barry:
[Coming up from the basement] Is that you, Hazel?

Wayne:
Barry?

Barry:
Wayne?

Trevor:
Nearly gave me a heart attack!

Wayne:
[Enters the living room and unmasks himself] Hello, my son.

Barry:
Hello, Wayne!

Wayne:
Gimme five, trade some skin! [They give each other a low five]

Barry:
Ahh, watching the basketball on Channel 4, have we?

Trevor:
I thought it was The Muppets...

Barry:
Always seemed a bit strange to me, all those seven-foot American Negroes playin' for Milton Keynes!

Wayne:
[Pointing to Trevor] I hope this isn't Hazel. I hope you ain't changed that much, son.

Barry:
Nah, nah, this is Trev. Cor, Trev, this is Wayne!

Wayne:
Sorry to startle you, son. It was meant for him [Barry]. So where's the lads, then?

Barry:
They're, um... [Quietly] ...not all here.

Wayne:
Hold on a minute. You wrote to me saying this was gonna be the big reunion, class of '82.

Barry:
I wrote to all of you, didn't I, Trev?

Trevor:
Aye, I posted them at the post office.

Wayne:
Well that's one up on the ol' laundrette, ain't it, eh?

Barry:
Bomber's coming... maybe.

Wayne:
What about the others?

Barry:
I haven't heard from 'em yet.

Trevor:
Well, at least you've got each other. The Magnificent Two(!)

Barry:
Trevor! Trevor, don't you have to pick up those breeze blocks? [Trevor throws his trowel into his cement mix and storms off. Barry makes a space for Wayne to sit down. Wayne has a glance at the picture of the Magnificent Seven before taking a seat.]

Wayne:
So, how are you then?

Barry:
Ahh, bostin', like.

Wayne:
I drove all the way...

Barry:
[Overlapping with Wayne] Did you...? [Gestures to Wayne to continue]

Wayne:
I was just gonna say, I drove all the way from Tilbury, 'cos you said we was gonna have a bit of a knees-up.

Barry:
Yeah. Well, it's not easy, Wayne, getting you lot together. There's a bit of gypsy in the soul of all of you, mate. I mean, Moxey's always lived at no fixed abode, me letter to Oz was returned, "Not known at this address". [Picks up the envelope and shows it to Wayne] Look. That's from his wife.

Wayne:
Well, what about Dennis and Nev? I mean, they ain't gadabouts, are they?

Barry:
I must admit, Wayne, I'm very disappointed in those two. I thought my letter at least justified the courtest of a reply.

Wayne:
So it's just us two, is it?

Barry:
Well, it's a bit of a letdown. If I were you, I'd naff off back to Tilbury...

Wayne:
All right! All right, I just flamin' got 'ere, didn't I?

Pippa:
Excuse us... I don't know how long you're planning on leaving us in the car, Wayne, but we're, er... bursting for a pee. [Barry pops his head round.]

Wayne:
Yeah, I'm sorry about that, girls. Erm... Barry, does your house yet boast a bog? [Grins at the hitchhikers] I mean, toilet.

Barry:
Yes, er, it's... on the first-floor landing.

Linda:
Thanks.

Pippa:
Thanks! [They go upstairs.]

Barry:
Who are they?

Wayne:
A couple of girls. Linda and Pippa.

Barry:
I can see they're a couple of girls, Wayne(!)

Wayne:
Well they're hitchhikers, in't they? On their way to Ireland by way of Fishguard.

Barry:
Wolverhampton is not a natural stopping-off place on the way to Fishguard, Wayne! Even if you are desperate for a pee!

Wayne:
I know that, Barry, but they're pretty tasty, ain't they? Even in them anoraks.

Barry:
[Exhales, shaking his head] I'm deeply disappointed in you, Wayne!

Wayne:
Why?

Barry:
Because you haven't changed! No growth has taken place since Düsseldorf! Marriage, apparently, has made no impact at all.

Wayne:
Course it has. I mean, before I got married, I'd have jumped them two by Newport Pagnell.

Barry:
Ahhh, still the same unbearable sexist conceit! Still assuming that every female'll be taken in by your transparent Cockney charm!

Wayne:
Hey, those two ain't dim, Barry. They're from Maidstone Poly, so they can map-read, right? So they know it's a bit of a detour, but they're quite willing to stop over.

Barry:
Stop over where?

Wayne:
[Looks around the living room, barely an empty shell] I't ain't exactly the Wolverhampton Hilton, is it? But it'll do.

Barry:
Oi, oi, oi. Oi, oi! You're not doing it here! No-one's doing it here. Not before I do. [The toilet upstairs flushes.]

Wayne:
Oh, take your pick, I ain't fussy!

Barry:
Do you mind?! I'm taking about my bride-to-be, Hazel! This place is... well, it's sacred to us.

Wayne:
[Examining the bare walls] Oh yeah. Yeah, it's a temple Barry, I can see that(!)

Barry:
And you and I are meeting Haze at eight o'clock in the Wei Ling.

Wayne:
In the Wei-what?

Barry:
The Wei Ling. The finest Pekingese cuisine in the whole of the West Midlands. [The two hitchhikers come downstairs.]

Pippa:
Did somebody mention Chinese food? [Barry turns round with a look of worry on his face.]

Barry:
[Laughs slightly tipsily] Ahhh... see, it's only in retrospect that you appreciate the good times that you once had. [Laughs, completely oblivious that the girls are bored, then snorts. Sings] You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. [Speaks] In the words of the song.

Pippa:
What song?

Barry:
Joni Mitchell.

Linda:
Who?

Barry:
Oh, a bit before your time, I expect, eh, Linda? I should think Prince is more your mark, eh?

Wayne:
[Interrupting] Yeah, well, look. That's enough about us, ain't it, eh, Barry? So, what is it, girls? Another four pina coladas, eh?

Linda:
Yes, please, Wayne. I need some cigarettes. I'll just go to the machine and get some. [She gets up, as does Wayne]

Barry:
[Also getting up to let Wayne and Linda out] 'Ere, Wayne, d'you remember that big fat funny bloke with the harelip who took us on this day trip to Krefeld? It were great!

Wayne:
It was a golden memory(!) [Sotto voce to Barry] You're losing them, Barry.

Barry:
Hey? How'd you mean?

Wayne:
[Sotto voce] There's topics of conversation other than German building sites, all right? [Goes to the bar, leaving Barry alone with Pippa.]

Barry:
[Sits down. To Pippa] I was in the Falklands, you know.

Dennis:
Hey, listen. If he's not here, that's it, right? Quick pint and a hotel. [They enter the bar.]

Neville [Spotting Barry] Oh, eh. There he is, look.

Dennis:
Where? [Neville points Barry out and the female he is with.]

Neville:
Aye, get a look at her!

Dennis:
Hey, she's a bonny lass, isn't she?

Neville:
Who'd have thought it? Howay! [They go round the bar.]

Barry:
[To a bored Pippa] Ahh... it was a hard place for hard men to do a hard job. The only thing that kept my sanity was the table-tennis table. Do you, er... do you play at all? At the poly?

Pippa:
What?

Barry:
Ping pong, Pippa.

Pippa:
No.

Barry:
Oh... [Dennis and Neville get to the table] Dennis! Nev! Oh, bostin'! [Gets up and shakes their hands]

Neville:
Hey, Barry.

Dennis:
Hey, what's all this then, eh? [Grabs hold of Barry's tie]

Barry:
[Fending off Dennis] These are the blokes I was telling you about from Germany.

Neville:
Hello, Hazel. Very pleased to meet you, pet. [Pippa looks confused.]

Dennis:
Aye. Go on, Nev. Kiss the bride, son. [Neville goes in for a kiss.]

Pippa:
[Resisting] Oh! No! I'm... I'm Pippa.

Dennis:
Well, where's Hazel?

Barry:
Hazel's at the Wei Ling... [Suddenly realises the time and checks his watch.] Oh, my God! She's been there since eight o'clock! [Barry gets out from behind the table and rushes out of the pub as Wayne returns to the table.]

Dennis:
[To Wayne] How are ye?

Taxi driver:
Bloody maniac!

Bomber:
[Getting out of the taxi] I expect he just remembered his wife's birthday.

Neville:
[To Wayne, laughing] D'you realise you've probably ruined Barry's marriage?

Wayne:
Oi, it's not my fault, son! [Laughs]

Dennis:
[Referring to Pippa and Linda, still sat in the window seat] So listen, what are you going to do with them?

Wayne:
I know what I'd like to do, but the question is where, ain't it? I mean, it's all very well Barry pissing off in a panic, but I mean, er... where does that leave us, eh? Where are we gonna stay?

Neville:
Howay, man, Wayne. He's got a lot on his plate at the moment.

Dennis:
Come on, he's brought this on himself! It was him what brought us lunatics back together!

Bomber:
[Entering, joining the gang at the bar] Whose shout is it, lads?

All:
Bomber!

Hazel:
[Over the intercom] So you bothered to come round, then?

Barry:
Hazel... I went to the restaurant, but you'd gone.

Hazel:
I don't want to hear any excuses, Barry.

Barry:
I was late, but I was trying to get the radiators installed.

Hazel:
I'm not very amused, you know.

Barry:
I don't think your evening was entirely wasted, Hazel, I mean they gave me the bill, yes...

Hazel:
I'm glad they did!

Barry:
...but was it really necessary to have four bottles of sake, three egg foo yung...?

Hazel:
I've never been so humiliated in all my life! [Two female passers by stop and watch]

Barry:
Hazel, will you let me in so we can talk in a civilised manner?

Hazel:
I suppose all your friends have arrived, and you're making them happy! What about me? [An older gentleman also stops to watch the commotion]

Barry:
Yes, yes, my friends have arrived. But you know why, don't you? Cos you know why? [Getting frustrated] They've come from the far-flung corners of the country to do up our house!

Hazel:
Why don't they just go back again, Barry? Why don't you go with them? [Barry noticed the female onlookers laughing at him. They leave, as does the older gentleman]

Barry:
[Softly] All right... all right... I will go and join them. Yes. [Getting flustered again] We'll probably be in the Bell and Dragon drinking penis coladas 'til dawn!

Neville:
I always thought that wrestling was rigged.

Bomber:
If that's the case, Neville, how come I always bloody well lose? [They laugh]

Barman:
Last orders, please!

Dennis:
Here, chief. What d'you want, Nev?

Neville:
I'm all right, lads.

Bomber:
Oh, just half.

Dennis:
Er, I'll have a large Scotch and no ice, thanks. [Leaves the money on the bar and goes off to the toilet.]

Bomber:
Right. A pint and a half of bitter, a large Scotch, no ice. [Den leaves the bar.] Den's knocking back the hard stuff. Or is it just the excitement of the occasion?

Neville:
Ah, I've hardly seen him, Bomb, actually. Oh, mind, I did have a drink with him last week and he was knocking back the Scotches at dinner time.

Bomber:
Oh, it's all right if you can afford it.

Neville:
Course he went back to the family and that, but it never worked out.

Bomber:
Is that right? So he gives up Dagmar and ends up with nothing. It must have hurt him pretty hard.

Wayne:
[Comes to the bar] Look, lads, I've been addressing meself to the problems of accomodation. Apparently, there's a B&B down the road, or there's a lovely motel half a mile past the roundabout.

Bomber:
Motel.

Wayne:
Yeah, I fancy the latter meself. [The pub phone rings.]

Neville I thought we were all goin' for a curry.

Wayne:
Oh, no, Nev. I'm gonna give the vindaloo a miss. I've never found it much conducive to romance.

Barman [Having answered the phone] Is there a Dennis Patterson here?

Neville:
Aye. That must be Dennis. [Dennis returns to the bar] Den, there's a phone call for you.

Dennis:
Eh?

Neville:
Phone.

Dennis:
It cannae be for me, man. Naebody knows I'm here.

Neville:
No, honest.

Barman:
Are you Dennis Patterson?

Dennis:
Aye. [The barman signals for Dennis to come round to the phone. Dennis does so.] Hello?

Bomber:
So where are we staying then, Nev?

Neville:
Eh? I dunno. Barry's, I suppose.

Wayne:
There ain't many amenities, mate. If I were you, I'd come with us. I might need a bit of, er... immoral support. [Tipping his head to the hitchhikers. Dennis returns to the bar.]

Neville:
Who was that, Den? Was it Norma?

Dennis:
Nah. It was Barry.

Bomber:
Is he comin' back?

Dennis:
[Downing his Scotch] No. He'd rather we went across to see him. Yeah... he's been breathalysed! [He and Neville laugh.]

Moxey:
You still, er, married then, Nev?

Neville:
Yeah. Why shouldn't I be?

Moxey:
Well... no reason, like. It's just that... well, y'know, the tattoo you had, with the other Judy's name on. Must've thrown a bit of a wobbler over that.

Barry:
Ah, how'd you explain that one away?

Neville:
I didn't. I couldn't. I just... told her the truth. Well... sort of. Said you lot got us drunk and held us down while they did it. She believed us... eventually. We just agreed never to mention it.

Wayne:
All right, Den? You're keen.

Dennis:
What?

Wayne:
To get to work, it's only twenty past eight, I wasn't planning on going in 'til ten meself.

Dennis:
Nah, I'm not going, Wayne. Me sister rang, I've to shoot back home. Back.

Wayne:
Nothing serious, is it?

Dennis:
No, nah. Just, er, summat I have to deal with. Look, I tell you what, er... look, give Barry my apologies, will yer? And er... wish him all the best, okay, mate? [Pats Wayne's arm and turns to leave.]

Wayne:
Hey, Den! [Dennis stops in his tracks.] Nice to see you, mate.

Dennis:
Oh, sorry. [Shakes Wayne's hand] Nice to see you too, mate. Aye?

Wayne:
[Calling after Dennis] Try and get back at the weekend, eh? Might be a giggle! [Dennis leaves the motel. Wayne goes to reception.]

Receptionist:
[To Wayne] Oh, Sir?

Wayne:
Yeah?

Receptionist:
The two young ladies in Room 216...

Wayne:
Oh, yeah. Could you give 'em a bell, please? Tell 'em I'm on me way to breakfast?

Receptionist:
Well, they have checked out, sir.

Wayne:
[His face falls] They've what?

Receptionist:
Well they said that you'll be paying their bill.

Bomber:
Sorry I missed Den. Scarcely said a word to him last night.

Wayne:
Well, none of us did, he was that pissed.

Bomber:
He never used to knock it back like that. Not Scotch, anyhow.

Wayne:
Never used to drive a Jag, did he?

Bomber:
[Admiring Wayne's car's interior] Well, you can't complain. Fancy motor, this.

Wayne:
Yeah well, I earnt it, didn't I, Bomb? Little present to meself after six bleedin' months in the Arctic Circle.

Bomber:
Good money, then?

Wayne:
Yeah... but it weren't just that. There was nowhere to bleedin' spend it, was there? I mean, d'you know, our only diversions was tapes and videos.

Bomber:
[Spotting a blonde lady waiting to cross the road] What did you do about sex?

Wayne:
Not a lot. D'you know how hard it is to catch a penguin?

Wayne:
He's got a bleedin' nerve, that Barry, eh? Asks us all up here to help 'im out then does a runner.

Neville:
Went to see Hazel, didn't he?

Wayne:
Against my explicit instructions, yes! All those hours I wasted in Germany tutoring 'im in the ways of the opposite sex.

Moxey:
I'm not so sure they're your strong suit anymore, otherwise you would've had to pay for those two birds last night.

Wayne:
Cheap at half the price, son.

Moxey:
Ah, bollocks.

Wayne:
You weren't there, were you, Mox?

Bomber:
No. But I was. And I heard them turnin' you away! [He and Neville chuckle]

Neville:
I dunno what you were thinkin' of in the first place, I thought you were supposed to be a married man now.

Wayne:
[Gets up, defensively all of a sudden] Christa and I have an understanding, Neville. We've got a modern marriage.

Neville:
What, you mean it won't last? [Wayne points at Neville, then goes to sit on the windowsill]

Bomber:
Where is that lad, er... whats-his-name?

Neville:
Trevor.

Moxey:
Trev. He prefers Trev.

Bomber:
Oh, does he? [Shouts] Trevor? [Looks to the window directly above Wayne where Trevor is painting] Trevor!

Trevor [Opens the window] The name's Trev.

Bomber:
Whatever it is, sunshine, put the kettle on, eh?

Trevor:
I'm not a bloody tea boy, you know!

Wayne:
Well, what are ya, then?

Trevor:
I'm an apprentice.

Bomber:
Well, we're skilled craftsmen doin' a mate a favour, so put that bloody kettle on! [Trevor slams the window down, showing debris on Wayne below.]

Wayne:
Obviously a graduate of the John McEnroe school of charm and decorum.

Bomber:
Mind you, some of my skills are a bit rusty.

Moxey:
You not been doin' much of this then, Bomb?

Bomber:
Oh not a lot, no. It's a treat for me, this, laying bricks in the fresh air, after some of the jobs I've been doing!

Hazel:
[Coughs] 'Scuse me? [The lads stop work] Er, d'you have any idea where Barry Taylor is, please?

Wayne:
Wish we did, my dear.

Neville:
We think he's with Hazel. That's his fiancée.

Hazel:
No, he's not. I'm Hazel!

Hazel:
[Looking at the gap between the dining area and the kitchen] ...but why did you knock it down?

Wayne:
We thought that was the general idea, like.

Neville:
Open plan.

Hazel:
It was supposed to be a connecting hatch.

Neville:
Sorry.

Bomber:
We can soon put it back.

Neville:
We just wanted to make a start, seeing there's that much to do before you and Barry can get married.

Bomber:
[Turning to Trevor] 'Ere, you!

Trevor:
What?

Bomber:
Why didn't you tell us she didn't want that wall down?

Trevor:
'Cos the skilled craftsmen never asked me(!) [Walks out]

Hazel:
Oh... it's not your fault. Barry should have been here.

Wayne:
Ah, well, he's not here 'cos he's gone looking for you after what happened last night. And the reason for that, Hazel, is entirely down to me. See, I took him down the pub. Well, we hadn't seen each other for yonks, and, er... we sort of got involved with nostalgic reminiscences.

Neville:
He was ever so upset when he realised how late he was.

Moxey:
Didn't sleep a wink all night.

Hazel:
He slept here?

Moxey:
Yeah, with me an' Nev.

Neville:
He left the pub to go and see you, but apparently you wouldn't let him in.

Hazel:
That was childish of me. I was just so furious with 'im! I should've had it out then and there.

Moxey:
Yeah, you should've done, then he wouldn't have got breathalysed.

Dennis:
Hey, I heard you been hoyed off of the Falklands, like.

Oz:
Oh, did ya hear? Aye, what'd it say on the charge sheet? "The first person to be forcably ejected since the Argentinians."

Dennis:
Aye, quite an honour that! Congratulations!

Oz:
Well... actually, wasn't all doon ta me. What happened was... I had a.. I was standin' at this bar, on me own, yer kna, mindin' me own business, ya know me. And, er... next thing was... in marches these bloody paratroopers. Ooh! Y'ever come across them? What a bunch of heid-the-baws! Anyway... next thing was crash-bang-wallop, and I'm bein' marched up the gangplank of a bloody Hercules between two gnarly MPs! [Exhales] What a journey that is! Halfway roond the world and all I see is a bog on Ascension Island!

Dennis:
Rough, was it?

Oz:
Was nae picnic. [Burps loudly]

Dennis:
So, what d'you do then, then?

Oz:
Well, I got back, had mesel' a couple o' nights in London, yer kna, which I deserved, like, after six months in the Falklands, where men are men, and sheep get nervous! [He and Dennis chuckle]

Dennis:
So, yer spent all yer readies, eh?

Oz:
Aye... no... well, what happened was, yer kna, I got back, I was ganna come up 'ere, but, well... yer kna, what things have been like between me an' wor Marjorie over the last few years haven't been exactly what you can call idyllic, as I wor sayin', and then I rings her up from Brize Norton... some strange gadgy answers the phone! So I simply put two an' two together and realised that things had deteriorated even farther, yer kna! But yer kna me, Dennis, I've never been one to shirk family responsibilities, so I went doon and bought the bairn a train set at Hamley's, then I went doon ta Gatwick and got on a flight to Florida.

Dennis:
Florida?!

Oz:
Aye, Florida, yer kna, in America, man. Was nowt, man. It was, er, what? Dirt cheap, was £289 for fourteen nights, we had board, an' yer had all yer grub...

Dennis:
I kna, but that's a fortnight, an' you've been away nearly a year!

Oz:
Ah, well what happened was I missed the plane on the way... [The phone, next to Oz, interrupting him mid-sentence.] I'll get it. [He picks up the receiver, and speaking in a posh accent] Hello, Pattersons'! Who? Ally Fraser?!

Dennis:
[Grabbing the receiver from Oz mid-sentence] Give us that here! Hello, Ally. Yeah, it's Dennis. Yeah... yeah, look, I-I'll explain when I get there, right? I'm comin' straight over. [He puts the phone down] Mate, I've gotta gan, Oz.

Oz:
Eh?

Dennis:
[Putting his jacket on and pointing to the door] Howay, I've gotta gan, man! [He heads into the hallway]

Oz:
Oh, reet. [Gets up out of his chair and follows Dennis] What's he doin' ringin' yer up, Fraser?

Dennis:
I work for him.

Oz:
An' ye of all people, workin' for a scumbag like Fraser!

Dennis:
Aye, well times change, Oz. Where'll I drop you off?

Oz:
Oh, yer kna, I think I'll just come along with you.

Dennis:
No, no! Look, this could be tricky this, man, I'm in for a right bollocking here!

Oz:
All the more reason I should be along then, isn'it? I mean... he doesn't kna aboot the shunt in the arse there in the car yet, does he?

Dennis:
So?

Oz:
Well, it'd probably take the heat off yer, if you tell 'im you've got the job in hand.

Dennis:
What are yer talkin' about, "got the job in hand"?

Oz:
Well, tell 'im I'm your mechanic, an' I'll gi' yer give an estimate, man.

Dennis:
Well, how's that ganna help, man?

Oz:
Our Norman's got the spray shop, Western Road.

Dennis:
Aye?

Oz:
Well, we'll dodge up there, you'll have it sprayed by midnight. Nae more than £50, I guarantee.

Fraser:
[Dictating to his secretary] Now I wanna get out the day after tomorrow, Pamela, so can you ring up Heathrow, check the flights to Malaga and ring up Vicky, tell her what you've booked me on and when I'm expected, okay?

Pamela:
Alright, Mr. Fraser. Are you gonna be stoppin' at the villa?

Fraser:
You bet your sweet butty, I will! [Dennis enters the office.]

Dennis:
Oh, if you're busy, Ally, I'll come back later on, alright?

Fraser:
Oh no, no, you get yourself in here right now! [Outside, Oz looks at the damage done to the Jag while Big Baz looks on.] Pamela, er, book me a table at La Travatore for three at eight o'clock.

Pamela:
Okay...

Fraser:
And close the door, Pamela. I'm not taking any calls. [She leaves the office and closes the door. Dennis looks worried.] So... where did you bugger off to?

Dennis:
Look, Ally, what happened was...

Fraser:
When I for a well-deserved vacation, I do not expect my staff to do the same!

Dennis:
It wasn't like that...

Fraser:
Nor do I expect them to have the audacity to take my Jag, which Billy now informs me has got a crumpled left wing.

Dennis:
Look, I've already obtained an estimate...

Fraser:
I thought I'd be away for about three weeks, but I felt comfortable in the knowledge that I had people here I could rely on, someone to hol the fort, Dennis. Someone to make my presence felt, even though I was in absentia.

Dennis:
It won't happen again, Ally!

Fraser:
Well that might be the truest thing you ever said, my friend!

Dennis:
Look, if I'm in for a caning here, fine, but don't milk it! I've been to Wolverhampton, I'll tell you for why - one of me mates I worked in Germany with called us up, because he's getting married and he wanted his house fixing up. He called everybody up. So A - I wanted to see me mates again, and B - I thought it would do me soul good to do two weeks honest graft, instead of brown-nosing for you 'cos I owe you six grand!

Fraser:
[Taken aback, but calm... and already thinking] Did they all show up?

Dennis:
What?

Fraser:
These pals you were in Germany with?

Dennis:
Most of them, yeah. Why?

Fraser:
They're reliable workers, are they, Dennis?

Dennis:
For what they do, aye. Top rank. Why?

Fraser:
You eaten today?

Dennis:
Not really, nah.

Fraser:
Nor me, I've been chasin' around like a fart in a colander. [Looks out the window and shouts] BAZ! GET YERSELF UP HERE! [Big Baz enters the building. Oz follows him thinking Dennis is in trouble. Fraser shows Dennis some pictures of a former manor house.] You see this house?

Dennis:
Yeah?

Fraser:
It needs a conversion. I need a bunch of reliable cowboys in there. Your lads could fit the bill, right?

Dennis:
Well, I dunno, they've got their own lives to lead, haven't tha?

Fraser:
Oh, Dennis, Dennis, people don't do people favours. If they can afford two weeks out of their lives to go to Wolverhampton, it proves they've got sod all else better to do. I mean they sound just the kind of blokes who would do a lot of work for a bit of money without too much form filling in or VAT. You hearing what I'm saying?

Dennis:
Oh, I know exactly what you're saying! Well I could ask them. They might be interested.

Fraser:
Do it, Dennis. I need this. [Big Baz enters the office]

Big Baz:
You wanted me, Mr. Fraser?

Fraser:
Oh aye, Baz! Yes. We're famished. Would Indian suit you, Dennis?

Dennis:
Oh, fine. Fine.

Fraser:
Right, well we'll have the, er, lamb tikka, one chicken tandoori, the, er... couple of onion bhajis, the special rice for two... [Oz enters the reception and makes a beeline for Fraser's office]

Pamela:
[To Oz] Er, please, you cannae go in there! [Oz enters the office anyway]

Dennis:
Oz?

Fraser:
Who the hell are you?

Oz:
[To Fraser] Ne'er mind who I am, I kna who you are!

Dennis:
Oz, man!

Oz:
[To Dennis] It's alright, I'll handle this. [To Fraser] Listen, I kna all about your reputation, right? I couldn't give a monkey's chuff about it, but I'll just tell yer this - one finger on him... [Points at Dennis] ...and you'll get that! [Pounds his fist against the palm of his other hand] Alright? [Fraser nods to Big Baz to deal with Oz] Oh, aye? [Without flinching, Oz headbutts Big Baz! He starts kicking him]

Dennis:
OZ, MAN! For Christ's sake, man!

Oz:
It's all right, he dae you nae more trouble.

Dennis:
He wasn't gonnae, he was only gannen for a tandoori chicken!

Oz:
...What?

Fraser:
Who is this lunatic?

Dennis:
Look, it's all been a mistake! This is Oz, man. He's one of the lads I was workin' with in Germany I was tellin' you about.

Fraser:
Was he, now?

Oz:
Er... I'll meet you outside, I'll wait by the car, shall I? [He exits, leaving Big Baz groaning in pain on the floor.]

Fraser:
Not too many people chin Big Baz! [To Dennis, about Oz] Make him chargehand.

Hazel:
Milk or sugar?

Wayne:
Yeah. Both, please. [She hands him a cup.]

Hazel:
Have some cake. It's fresh.

Wayne:
I won't say no. [She cuts a slice of cake. Wayne hands her a plate and she puts the slice on it.]

Hazel:
[Sighs] I find this rather difficult, Wayne, because I don't know you. But, d'you know, I feel as though I do through Barry, 'cos you were his closest friend in Germany, weren't you? [Wayne looks confused] He said you used to do things together, y'know, visit museums on his motorbike.

Wayne:
[Lying] Yeah, yeah. I miss that(!)

Hazel:
Well, that's why I wanted to talk to you. About Barry.

Wayne:
Oh look now, Hazel, if it's about last night, I've told you, it weren't the lads' fault...

Hazel:
I'm not talking about the Chinese restaurant, Wayne. I'm talking about the entire last two years. Our engagement, in fact.

Wayne:
Ohhh. Been goin' out on the piss a lot, is he? ...'Scuse me, I mean, has he been sort of, er, goin' out with the lads, havin' a couple of...? [Makes a drinking motion]

Hazel:
No, no. When has he had a chance? That poor lad went to the Falklands, you know. And he did that for us, for our house, for our future.

Wayne:
Well, I don't quite see what you're driving at, Haze.

Hazel:
Well... sometimes I have to ask myself if he's ever had a chance to, you know, slow down, take stock, and ask himself if this marriage is what he really wants.

Wayne:
I see... [Puts down his cup and plate, then pulls out a Snoopy plush toy he'd been sitting on and puts it aside] ...or is it, er, have you had a chance?

Hazel:
[Glances down] Maybe. With all the sacrifices he's made, my emotions are a mixture of guilt and gratitude.

Wayne:
It's a bit late in the day for all that, ain't it, love?

Hazel:
It's with all you lot arriving and finishing the house. Suddenly everything seems so much more... well... imminent.

Wayne:
Well... how can I help?

Hazel:
I thought, well, while you were up here, you might have a word, you know, just the two of you, and try and discover his real feelings. Would you do that for me?

Wayne:
Yeah. That's all right, there's no bother.

Hazel:
Oh, thank you.

Wayne:
See... all these pre-marital jitters is par for the course, like, you know.

Hazel:
All that's behind you now, isn't it? Barry showed me a picture of your wife. She's... she's very pretty, isn't she?

Wayne:
...Yeah, yeah. Very.

Hazel:
Oh, why don't you ask her to come up at the weekend?

Wayne:
She's in Germany.

Hazel:
Visiting family?

Wayne:
[Quiet] Sort of, yeah... she's there indefinitely. Now look, don't tell Barry or the lads about this, eh?

Hazel:
No, no. Of course not, I wouldn't dream of it, no.

Wayne:
Well, look, I probably shouldn't be telling you this under the circs, should I? But you mustn't worry about your Barry. Sound as a bell, Barry. Not like me! [Chuckles] I'm a bit of a flake, you know, a Jack the Lad. Always have been. Suppose that's why she left me. She said, "I'll come back when you grow up!", she says. [He and Hazel laugh] Could take a bit of a while, that, eh?

Dennis:
How, lads!

All:
How, Den!

Barry:
Hello, Dennis. Didn't expect you back so soon, mate.

Neville:
Didn't expect you back at all.

Dennis:
Aye, well, I had a bit of business to take care of, but I came back because I've had this proposition. Might interest some of you lads. Now, er... there's good news, and there's bad news attached to this. Which one do you want first?

Neville:
Oh, eh let's have the bad news.

Dennis:
Right, okay. [Whistles. Oz enters.]

All:
Oz!

Moxey:
Bloody hell!

Oz:
...Why, aye.

Dennis:
Right, lads. He wants a quick conversion, so he can sell it over the odds and make a tasty profit, see?

Moxey:
Ah, the unacceptable face of c-capitalism.

Oz:
Aye, that's right. But we're gettin' paid top whack, so...

Dennis:
Well, I've already seen the drawings. I reckon there's at least... two months' work.

Barry:
Oh yeah. Two months, ten weeks...

Dennis:
I'm in charge, Barry, so there'll be no gaffers, eh?

Barry:
As you were, Dennis.

Neville:
This bloke... wouldn't happen to be Ally Fraser, would it?

Dennis:
Yes, Neville, yes.

Wayne:
Who is this Ally Fraser?

Neville:
Local villain.

Oz:
Oh look, man! His money's just as good as anybody else's, Neville, isn'it? Or are ya snowed under wi' work offers at the moment, like?

Bomber:
Well, I'm game. Life-savers for Bomber. Bloody sight better than being bounced about the ring and having old ladies stubbing fag ends about your arse!

Dennis:
Moxey?

Moxey:
I fancy it. I'm f-fairly free.

Dennis:
What about you, Wayne?

Bomber:
Can't see it appealing to him. Not with a BMW and that scrumptious little wife at home.

Wayne:
Yeah, I know about all that, but I mean if it's only for a couple of months, could be a giggle, couldn't it? [Throws a can of lager to Oz.]

Dennis:
Nev?

Neville:
Well... if it's only a couple of months, I suppose so.

Dennis:
Right, so you're all in then!

Barry:
Ah well, I'd be with you straight away, you know, for old times' sake, like, but er... the impending nuptials...

Oz:
We'll miss your sparkling repartee(!) Eh? Barry Taylor, the prince of trivia. [The others, except Barry, laugh]

Bomber:
When do we start, Den?

Dennis:
Monday.

Barry:
Monday?! But that only gives you... four days to finish me house!

Bomber:
Better get crackin' then!

Dennis:
All right, lads, move yerselves!

Moxey:
Oh, don't say that! Not after that bloody curry we had last night!

Dennis:
Listen, Wayne, we're bound to lose each other, there's a great big motorway caff just before we come off the motorway, right? Be there for brekkie.

Wayne:
Right.

Oz:
[As he leaves the motel with his bags] Hold on, I've not had me cup o' tea.

Dennis:
We've already had tea! We were supposed to be on the road an hour ago!

Oz:
Look, Dennis, if you're ganna be the gaffer on this new job, you'd better get summat straight straight away.

Dennis:
What?

Oz:
We're still entitled proper meal breaks, right?

Dennis:
Aye.

Oz:
And travelling time to the job an' back. An' another thing: don't go usin' Barry's gaff as a yardstick for our workrate neither, right?

Moxey:
Nah, we'll spin this one out a bit longer.

Neville:
[Noticing Barry's van about to pull into the car park.] Oh, here comes Barry to see us off. [Barry pulls up in front of the lads and gets out of his van.]

Wayne:
What's wrong with you, mate? You look worse than what Moxey feels.

Bomber:
I hope you 'aven't come to tell us your cheques is gonna bounce.

Barry:
Nah, nah, nah. I've just come to get the address of the place where you're going to, like.

Dennis:
It's no bother, I'll write it down for yer.

Neville:
Awww, isn't that nice? He's gonna write us a postcard from his honeymoon.

Barry:
Won't be a honeymoon. Won't be a wedding. Nah, Hazel needs to think things through, like. So, be with you in a couple of days!

Neville:
[To Wayne] Aye, 'ey, we were talking on the way up about Barry. Well, at least about Hazel postponing the wedding.

Wayne:
[As the lads find a table and sit down] I know a bit about that as it happens.

Dennis:
How would you know?

Wayne:
Well... as I was giving the lovely Hazel a lift home back to her place, she invited me in. Before Barry showed up, she told me the whole situation.

Oz:
[As the others start eating] What? You mean poor bloody Barry got back and found you two ensconced? It's nae wonder the wedding's off.

Wayne:
Bollocks, Oz. I wouldn't jump a mate's bird, not at three in the afternoon.

Oz:
Just as well for him it wasn't half past, innit?

Wayne:
Look, she needed someone to confide on, all right? She thought I was his best mate or something.

Neville:
So what'd she say?

Wayne:
Needed time to think. Was it for the right reasons? Re-evaluate the relationship. Blah-blah-blah. Anyway, the point is, she's got cold feet.

Oz:
Well if yer kna that, you must've had your leg over!

Wayne:
All right. End of story. Shouldn't have mentioned it, should I?

Bomber:
Funny though, whenever us lot get together, it spells trouble for someone.

Neville:
So what are we doin' back together?

Oz:
'Cos we're misfits, man. We're drifters. [Looks out onto the motorway] Drifters on the highway of life... [Returns to his seat] as Merle Haggard might have said.

Moxey:
I don't see it that way meself. No, we're drifters, yeah. But that's 'cos we're free spirits, rebelling against a system that wants to grind us down. I think comradeship's got a lot to do with it. It c-counts for me, anyway. That's why I'm here. Not just to help out Barry, but to be wit' you lot. Even you, Oz.

Oz:
[Stuffing his face] Oh, thank you(!)

Moxey:
I'm gonna get a donut. [Leaves the table.]

Dennis:
Strange lad, that lad.

Neville:
Yer kna, in all the time I've known Moxey, I think that's the longest speech I've ever heard him make!

Oz:
Well, if he was that keen to see us, then his life must be pretty bloody desperate, mustn't it?

Wayne:
No, Moxey's right, we're free spirits embarking on a great new adventure. We're The Magnificent Seven, and Dennis is Yul Brynner! [They all laugh]

Oz:
Aye, he's got aboot the same amount of hair.

Dennis:
Oh, aye? Very funny, very funny, aye. Look, we're not going off to repel some marauding Mexicans, yer kna! We're only gannin back to laying bricks for a couple of months.

Oz:
Oh, aye? We might as well be in Mexico, mightn't we? Bloody Derbyshire, that's in in the middle of naewhere, isn'it?

Wayne:
I'll be Horst Buchholz, 'cos like, he was the youngest and best looking, weren't he?

Oz:
Aye, but he were also the most boring bastard, wasn't he?

Wayne:
All right, all right...

Oz:
He was the one that was always taggin' along, the other six kept havin' to tell 'im to piss off.

Neville:
I think Barry should be Yul Brynner, 'cos he's the one that brought us together.

Bomber:
[Shakes his head] Can't see that somehow. He's not a natural leader, is Barry.

Oz:
Aye. James Coburn, me. 'Cos he was... [Takes a used knife from the plate of an adjacent table] cool, and... [Puts the knife down his boot] ...laconic, weren't he?

Neville:
Well, since the situation's vacant, I'll be Steve McQueen.

Wayne:
No, hold on, I forgot about him.

Neville:
Oh, howay!

Oz:
You piss off! You chose the Kraut, so you're stuck with 'im!

Bomber:
Well where does that leave me?

Wayne:
Charles Bronson, innit?

Dennis:
Nah, no, man. There was this big fella, man, was one of 'em. Nobody could ever remember his name.

Oz:
Oh, aye. Aye. [Starts tapping Dennis's sleeve with his knife] I can see his face. On the tip...

Dennis:
[Brushes Oz away] Howay, man! You pillock!

Oz:
I can see him.

Bomber:
Ah, well. Just let me know my name if ever you remember it.

Neville:
So that leaves... Bronson and Robert Vaughn for Barry and Moxey.

Wayne:
Robert Vaughn. He's the one that lost his bottle but redeemeed himself at the finish, weren't he?

Oz:
Aye. Bronson... Bronson was the enigmatic one, wasn't he? Deadly, like, but enigmatic. [Moxey returns with his donut.]

Dennis:
Agreed, then?

All:
Aye.

Dennis:
Bronson.

Wayne:
You're Charles Bronson, Moxey.

Moxey:
[Halfway through biting into his donut] You what? Why?

Oz:
'Cos nae bugger can fathom you, man.

Fraser:
The photographs didn't do this place justice! It's even bigger than I imagined.

Hallwood:
Yeah... you know, Ally, I've always thought that Victorian architecture was a gesture of their confidence rather than their taste.

Fraser:
Ah, well. Anyway, Malcolm, a hundred years ago or so there'd be one family living in this place. Coal owner, probably. Picture it - there's a thousand wretches slaving away underground for a hundred hours a week for a bowl of dripping, and he's up here supping claret and playing billiards after dinner. [Chuckles] Those were the days, eh, son?

Hallwood:
As a point of fact, I think most of the industry 'round here was steel.

Fraser:
Well, times change. Most of Kenny Ames's money came from pornography.

Hallwood:
Did he ever actually live in the house?

Fraser:
Ahh, I think he spent a few weekends here, before the Fraud Squad caused his hasty departure to Málaga.

Hallwood:
The Fraud Squad's my main concern, Ally. Any transaction involving his property is gonna show straight up on their computers.

Fraser:
So? They can't freeze his assets. Thanks to our great British judicial system, a man is innocent until proven guilty. And Kenny Ames will be innocent until the day he dies, provided he dies in Spain.

Hallwood:
It draws attention to you. I mean they're not gonna fail to notice that the sale price is way below market value. That's fraud, Ally! You're avoiding Capital Gains Tax, to say nothing of Stamp Duty.

Fraser:
Look, my survey report will show that this building is ridden with dry rot, rising damp, woodworm and horribly, possibly, even deathwatch beetle! He's very lucky I'm taking it out of his hands!

Hallwood:
You haven't had a survey! [Fraser goes to a back door with a crumbling arch] I haven't even had time to conduct the normal searches.

Fraser:
Well, my survey report will show exactly what I want it to show, my friend. [Picks from the crumbling arch] I guarantee that.

Wayne:
Ah, yes. This reminds me very much of my gaff in Tilbury(!) Not so much gardens. Mind you, on the other hand, I don't suppose they have the pong from the lino factory, eh?

Moxey:
[As he and Oz start to walk round to the back] I lived in a place like this once.

Oz:
Bollocks!

Moxey:
I did. The borstal near Prestatyn.

Neville:
What's Ally planning to do with this, Den?

Dennis:
Timesharing units, they call 'em.

Neville:
All self-contained, like?

Dennis:
Aye, we'll put lots of bathrooms in, yer kna. Kitchenettes.

Neville:
Lot of work?

Dennis:
Well, there's a stack of overtime, aye, because he wants the job done fast. So I wouldn't reckon on seeing your Brenda too often, mate.

Neville:
Fine by me.

Dennis:
Ohh, 'ey, don't tell me you're heading for the broken homes club as well, are ya?

Neville:
Oh, of course not. I'll just be glad to get me head down and get some solid graft in.

Moxey:
[Trying to open the back door] See if this opens.

Oz:
[Nudges Moxey and pulls out the knife from the motorway services from his boot] Watch and learn, son. [He uses the knife to try and open one of the windows.]

Bomber:
What's the drill then, Dennis? Are we supposed to wait around 'til he [Fraser] shows up? Bomber could murder a pint.

Wayne:
We passed a nice little pub in the village.

Dennis:
Aye, well you lads go down there. I'll have to stop here, man.

Neville:
Where's Oz and Mox?

Wayne:
Watering the geraniums, I suppose. [Shouts round the corner] Here, Oz! Mox! Come on, we're going down the boozer.

Dennis:
Hey, Bomber. Don't let the lads make a day trip of this, mind, will yer?

Bomber:
Leave it to me, Dennis. I'll keep 'em in order. Pint and a pie. [As they walk off, they hear sounds coming from the house.]

Neville:
Hey, Den, listen. [He hears footsteps.] I thought you said this place was empty.

Dennis:
It is, man. Oh, aye. Apart from the monster. Didn't want to let yer kna about that in case it frightened you off, like, yer kna.

Oz:
[Posh accent] What are youse peasants doing on my property? There's a notice there what clearly states that members of the working class will be exterminated. Now piss off! [They all laugh.]

Oz:
[At the jukebox] Oi! [Pringle goes from serving a customer in the lounge to the public bar.] How often d'you get these records changed, lad?

Pringle:
Nothing to do with me, that's up to the brewery.

Oz:
Well, the bloke from the brewery must love Duran Duran. You haven't got one decent record on here, man!

Wayne:
[Getting up] Same again, is it?

Bomber:
No, no, I promised Den I'd get you all back.

Neville:
Back to work... [Drinks his pint]

Moxey:
Just going for a piss. [Heads for the toilet.]

Neville:
'Ey, better get Den summat to eat, eh?

Wayne:
Got any of them pies left, squire?

Pringle:
No, you had the last.

Wayne:
Got any Scotch eggs?

Pringle:
No.

Wayne:
Have you got anything hot?

Pringle:
[Checks his watch] It's after two.

Bomber:
Look, we've got this mate and he's not eaten, so what can you offer?

Pringle:
Crisps, or... that sandwich. [Points to the sole sandwich left in a food cover.]

Bomber:
...we'll take that, then. [Pringle takes the sandwich out.]

Oz:
[Looking around] I don't think we'll be coming back here in a hurry, d'you?

Neville:
[Drinking the last of his pint] The beer's not bad. Canny drop.

Oz:
No, I'm not talkin' about the beer, man. I'm talking about mine host, Happy Harry the wing co.

Pringle:
[Offended] Are you referring to me?

Oz:
Well, you're obviously ex-RAF, aren't you, eh? Judging by all the crap you've for hanging up on the walls, anyway. When did you get pensioned off, then?

Pringle:
I resigned six years ago.

Oz:
Ah, six years ago. That'll have been a nice easy stretch, was it?

Pringle:
What do you mean "easy"?

Oz:
Between Suez and the Falklands there wasn't a lot of action. About as much as we'll find 'round here.

Pringle:
I trust you'll go and find it somewhere else!

Fraser:
How're you doing, Dennis? What was the law after?

Dennis:
Ah, just checkin' up, like, yer kna.

Fraser:
Aye. D'you know Malcolm Hallwood?

Dennis:
No. Hello there. [They shake hands]

Fraser:
[To Hallwood as he hands Dennis the architect's plans] Dennis will be in charge of the operations. [Fraser, Hallwood and Big Baz get out of the car]

Hallwood:
It looks like you've got your work cut out, Dennis.

Dennis:
I've got the right lads for it, like, yer kna. [Wayne, Bomber, Oz and Neville look accusingly at Fraser]

Fraser:
They look more like a bunch of mercenaries!

Dennis:
This place looks all right.

Oz:
No, I don't reckon this place is a good idea.

Dennis:
Eh? We've been all over the place, Oz.

Neville:
I thought that Mrs. Armitage seemed nice enough.

Wayne:
Nah, you know what that's gonna be, don't you? "Wipe your feet before you come in and lights out after ten."

Dennis:
Course we can always stay with Ally at the Cross Keys at £50 a night, like.

Neville:
Well if we don't find somewhere soon, we're gonna end up kipping down at the house.

Wayne:
I don't fancy that.

Dennis:
Look, man, it's only for one night 'til we find somewhere permanent. Some of us are starving because we didn't get any dinner!

Oz:
Alreet, alreet. Suit yerselves.

Dennis:
Right, let's gan in. [Gets out of the van, noticing the others don't.] What's the matter?

Wayne:
Well, you're best at this sort of thing, Den. Y-yeah, you handle it.

Dennis:
Do you lads kna somethin' I don't?

Oz:
No...

Dennis:
Evening. Er, have you got any rooms free?

Pringle:
I might have.

Dennis:
Er, you couldn't manage three twins, could you?

Pringle:
How many nights?

Dennis:
At least a couple.

Pringle:
Yes, I think I can manage that.

Dennis:
Champion. [Pringle returns to the bar. Dennis goes to the front door and calls out to the lads.] Right, lads. No problem. [He goes to the bar.]

Pringle:
That'll be £18 a night, and I don't take credit cards.

Dennis:
That's okay, we prefer cash anyway. Er, I tell you what, give us five pints of this bitter to start with, please. [Pringle starts pouring the beers as the lads enter with their cases.]

Oz:
Hello again! [Pringle looks up with a look of bewilderment!]

Neville:
Mox!

Moxey:
Hello, lads.

Neville:
Where the hell have you been?

Moxey:
I dossed down here last night.

Bomber:
You look bloody frozen! [Picks up Neville's jacket] Here, lad. [Throws the jacket over Moxey's shoulders]

Moxey:
Cheers, mate.

Wayne:
So what's the word, then, eh? I mean, I think you owe us an explanation, mate. [After running away after the sight of a police car the previous day]

Moxey:
Yeah... I've been in prison, see.

Oz:
We kna that, man, but that was yonks ago, wasn'it? It doesn't mean you have to shit yerself every time you see a police.

Moxey:
No, I mean I've been in recently. Like last week. An' I'm not due out 'til next March.

Neville:
What, you mean, you've went over the wall?

Moxey:
Well, it wasn't a closed nick. I was in an open prison in Cheshire. Wasn't as if I had to dig a tunnel or rent an helicopter. I just walked out the front door. Bought a Toblerone at the post office and got a bus to Macclesfield.

Neville:
Why?

Moxey:
I've got a mate there. He gave us a float and I made me way to Barry's.

Neville:
You must be mad, Mox.

Wayne:
Yeah, it's a bloody lunatic thing to do, Mox.

Bomber:
If it was an open prison, you must have been dealt with fairly lenient.

Moxey:
Oh I was. I'm not a Grade A villain! I just got done for the old trouble.

Neville:
What, arson?

Moxey:
Yeah. You see, with me, they know that it's a ps-ps-psychological defect, as opposed to a cr-criminal tendency.

Oz:
Ah, they also didn't want a prison burned to the ground, did they?

Wayne:
Yeah, but blimey, Mox, if it was an open prison, you must've had life pretty cushy, eh?

Moxey:
It's still stir, Wayne. It's still people tellin' you what to do an' when to do it! I had a year of it ahead of me.

Wayne:
Well, they'll have a bloody sight more when they nick you, mate.

Bomber:
Wayne's right. If you give yourself up, you'll be caned for your walkabout. But if you don't, and you get collared, you'll be looking at two years.

Moxey:
I'll take me chances.

Bomber:
Suit yourself. [Gets up to start work.]

Wayne:
I'll say no more.

Oz:
Aye, don't worry, Moxey. We'll look after yer.

Moxey:
I'm bloody frozen.

Neville:
Maybe we could light a fire, eh?

Moxey:
That's a good idea, that...

Wayne:
Er... no. No, not you, Moxey. I think I'll do it.

Mrs. Bellamy:
Good morning.

Neville:
How do.

Mrs. Bellamy:
I'm Helen Bellamy. I owe you gentlemen an apology. It was I who sent the policeman here yesterday. I'm afraid I thought you were criminals. [Oz chuckles.]

Neville:
I suppose we did look a bit out of place, like, roond here.

Mrs. Bellamy:
Mr. Ames, er, talked about doing some work on the house.

Neville:
It's not Mr. Ames we're workin' for. This is owned by a Mr. Fraser now.

Mrs. Bellamy:
Oh? It's been sold? I never saw any signs. None of the local estate agents had it listed. Of course, Mr. Ames was rather a mystery man. My husband and I met him once when we were raising money for Oxfam. He made a very generous donation. And then one day, we opened the Sunday newspapers and found him described as King Porn!

Wayne:
Oh yeah?

Mrs. Bellamy:
"Is this Britain's most evil man?" one of them asked. We'd always found him perfectly charming.

Oz:
You cannae gan judging a book by what you see printed on the front cover, pet, can yer?

Mrs. Bellamy:
I beg your pardon?

Neville:
He's sayin' appearances can be deceptive.

Wayne:
Yeah, y'see these days, a lot of villains become country squires, don't they? You know, mingle with local nobs, take up fox hunting, have sherry with the vicar. Then once a month, they pops down to London and does the old bullion job.

Oz:
Aye, then they get rumbled, y'see, and dodge over to Spain, divvn't they?

Mrs. Bellamy:
Ah, Spain? Yes, where one gathers Mr. Ames now resides.

Neville:
Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs..?

Mrs. Bellamy:
No.. thank you. Jasper and I must be getting along.

Moxey:
Nice dog, that. I like retrievers.

Oz:
[Laughs] I would've thought a retriever would be the last sort of dog you'd have fancied, Moxey! [Laughs again]

Moxey:
Shut up, Oz.

Mrs. Bellamy:
The old house could do with a lick of paint.

Neville:
Oh, it's more than that, pet. Big job, this. Conversion.

Mrs. Bellany:
Really?

Neville:
Aye. We'll be here a while.

Oz:
Aye, so you'd better lock up yer daughters! [Chuckles]

Oz:
[Kicking in the door from which Moxey emerged the day before] Come on, Moxey, man. We know you're in there!

Wayne:
If we're getting in this early, we might as well not have gone to bed.

Moxey:
[From another room] Is it safe?

Wayne:
No, the place is surrounded by the SPG with riot shields(!) [Moxey emerges]

Oz:
Ah, you divvn't half flatter yerself, ye dae, lad. You're not exatly public enemy number one, is yer?

Moxey:
They were cops.

Wayne:
Plain-clothes from the Smoke don't come round looking for toerags like you, son. [Dennis enters.]

Moxey:
Hello, Den.

Dennis:
Morning, Papillon! [The others laugh. Dennis throws Moxey some food in a paper bag] Here. A bacon and egg sandwich there for you.

Moxey:
Oh, cheers, mate. Oh, by the way, it was Brad Dexter.

Wayne:
What was?

Moxey:
The bloke we couldn't think of in The Magnificent Seven. Bomber's character, it was Brad Dexter.

Wayne:
Never 'eard of 'im.

Moxey:
No-one has. That's why we couldn't remember him. Couldn't sleep last night, see. What with worrying about the law and the cold and the rats.

All:
Rats?!

Dennis:
I couldn't sleep, worryin' about you an' your situation, an' what I'm gonna do about it, Moxey!

Moxey:
Oh. Sorry, Den. I should've levelled with you.

Oz:
I think he's right... I think it was Brad Dexter. ...Ah! Now that's who he was, man! He was the gadgy what saved Frank Sinatra's life, wasn'he?

Moxey:
That's right.

Wayne:
When was that, then?

Oz:
I dunno, Wayne, I'm not the Memory Man, am I? But, er... apparently what happened was Sinatra got a ducking one time and nearly drowned, like, and that Dexter gadgy dived in, pulled him out and saved him. That would've been it, wouldn'it? In clover for the rest of his natch. Ahh, just imagine it, eh? Limos, boilers, monogrammed cufflinks with yer initials on. Owt you fancy, I'd imagine.

Dennis:
Hey? Amarillo?

Oz:
[Brushing his teeth] Aye. D'you like it? [Dennis joins the queue for the bathroom. Moxey and Neville are in front.]

Moxey:
Hey! [Bangs the door] Hurry up, Wayne, will you? There's a bloody queue out here, y'know.

Dennis:
Why do these places always just have one bog?

Neville:
I've just been sayin' to Mox, he'll be all right with us, won't he? He's our mate, we've gotta look after 'im.

Dennis:
Well that's all very well for you to say. Technically I'm the employer.

Oz:
Ah, that says a lot about where your mentality is, yer kna, Den.

Dennis:
[Goes back to his and Oz's room] What's that supposed to mean?

Oz:
Well, what do yer think it means?

Dennis:
I don't know. You tell me what my mentality is.

Oz:
Well, in a word, you see yerself as a gaffer, don't yer? Always have done.

Moxey:
[Walking past the door] That's a whole sentence.

Oz:
[Shouts down the corridor] Hey, man! I'm sayin' this for your benefit, yer kna, tosspot! [He and Dennis follow Moxey into his and Bomber's room]

Moxey:
Yeah, all right...

Dennis:
Shut up, both of yer! [To Moxey] Look, I've got to handle this job legit, right?

Bomber:
[Cutting his toenails] But Ally's a crafty old bugger himself.

Dennis:
Well that's all the more reason, isn'it, why he doesn't want to bring any heat down by some petty infringement of the Employment Act! Look, I have to do their 715, stamp their ticket. Moxey's got neither. [To Moxey] Look, Moxey, if you're picked up, God forbid, they're going to ask me, yer kna, quite rightly, why I hired you without proper documentation. So when you talk about accessories, it won't be you lot, will it? Oh nah, it'll be yours truly who ends up in the clarts!

Oz:
See what I mean about the gaffer's mentality?

Moxey:
Yeah, but he's right though, isn't he? I can't compromise him. It wouldn't be fair.

Oz:
All right, all right. But does it not strike you lot as a bit ironic? All this setup, eh?

Dennis:
What?

Oz:
[Spits out the toothpaste] Here we are, right. We're workin' for this bloke, whose reputation is, to say the least... dubious. I mean I kna all aboot Ally Fraser, yer kna. He's a heavy duty villain. But he's alreet, 'cos he's so bloody wrapped up by lawyers, accountants and legal loopholes, he couldn't give a monkey's chuff aboot the law, the Inland Revenue or nowt! And you're more worried aboot Moxey, who, I mean, yer kna, with all due respect, is just some lowlife punter! His only real fault is he gans through life thinkin' every day is Guy Fawkes' Night!

Wayne:
[Whistles to get Pringle's attention] Same again please, squire, and a whisky and pep.

Pringle:
Do you mind not calling me "squire" or "chief" or "boyo" or "mate", or any other title you... people have bestowed on me?

Wayne:
Gotta call you something. [Mouths behind Pringle's back] Prick. [Dennis, also at the bar, almost chokes on his beer laughing.]

Pringle:
Then why not try Arthur? That is my given name.

Wayne:
As you wish, Arthur. I say, Arthur... d'you think I could have a little brandy on the side please, Arthur? I think I've got a cold coming on, Arthur. [He and Dennis snigger]

Barry:
[Entering the public bar with his bags] Evening, each!

All:
Oh, Barry!

Neville:
Howay, mate!

Wayne:
Just drive up, did you, son?

Barry:
Yeah. Aye, I did. Flipping heather broke in my van an' all!

Bomber:
You'd better have a snort, eh?

Barry:
Oh, I'm not havin' a penis colada, I'll tell you that much.

Dennis:
Not round here, you're not. [Barry goes to warm himself by the fire]

Wayne:
Better make that another whisky and pep, Arthur.

Pringle:
Is he another one?

Wayne:
Last of The Magnificent Seven, this. Barry Taylor, meet Mr. Arthur Pringle, your genial host(!)

Barry:
[Approaching the bar] Good evening, squire.

Pringle:
I've only got a single room, and it's £15 cash.

Barry:
Whatever, I have the wherewithal.

Oz:
Barry, take nae notice of Miserable Mick, man. Have a seat with the lads.

Bomber:
[Getting up] Have my seat. I think my vindaloo's on the move. [Leaves to go to the toilet]

Oz:
It certainly moves fast that curry, doesn'it? I divvn't kna why we don't just buy it and sling it straight doon the bog! We'd be cuttin' the middleman oot then! [Barry sits in Bomber's seat]

Neville:
There's nae food here, I'm afraid, Barry.

Barry:
Ah, I'm not interested in food, Neville. I haven't eaten a proper meal for three days, actually.

Neville:
Oh, dear, aye. Hazel, is it?

Barry:
I thought you'd never ask(!) [Wayne brings Barry a drink]

Wayne:
So your presence here indicates that conciliatory talks have broken down, I assume.

Barry:
Pro tem, Wayne, yes. She needs to think things through, like. She needs her own space, as it were.

Wayne:
I'm sure it'll all work out, son.

Barry:
Oh yeah, yeah. No, I'm sure it will, yeah. Yeah, but in the meantime, I thought it best to get away, like.

Neville:
What are you doin' about the business?

Barry:
Couldn't face it, Nev. I let it slip, anyhow, recently, what with the house and stuff. No, no. Wolverhampton's just too painful a place for me to be at this point in time.

Oz:
Too painful a place for me at the best of times.

Barry:
Oh, no, I mean it's got too many memories. No, I thought, best get away with me mates and get my head stuck into some honest graft.

Wayne:
Oh, yeah?

Dennis:
Aye, well, er... if you were thinkin' about easing the pain by throwing yerself into work, there's a bit of a hiccup, I'm afraid.

Oz:
Aye, just a little one(!)

Barry:
What do you mean "hiccup"?

Wayne:
Well, look, we've got a couple of problems there, Barry. The bloke we're working for has the Fraud Squad breathing down his neck, which doesn't instil confidence. We've had to down tools on the old house. They've slapped a preservation order on it. And apparently... Moxey's on the run from the nick. So we're harbouring a fugitive from justice. Apart from that, everything else is triff.

Barry:
Blimey. What have I got myself into?

Neville:
Well, the Moxey business isn't such a problem now we're not working.

Oz:
Nah. Nae graft, nae ticket, nae bother, eh, Den?

Bomber:
[Returning from the toilet] Well, there is no Moxey problem.

Dennis:
What d'you mean?

Bomber:
He's buggered off again. His bed's not been slept in and his tools are all gone.

Oz:
Oh, aye. Aye. What was it he said last night, eh? "I cannae compromise you, Dennis", wasn'it? Well he hasn't, has he? He's pissed off to keep you in the clear!

Wayne:
Oh, knock it off, Oz!

Oz:
What?

Wayne:
Den didn't drive him away, did he?

Oz:
Are you trying to say I did?

Neville:
Nobody did! He just didn't want to implicate any of us. You've gotta respect him for that.

Wayne:
Look, maybe he's gone back to turn himself in, eh?

Dennis:
Keep your voices down, will yer? Look, I know one thing - I just hope he doesn't get collared on his way back to the nick, 'cos they'll not believe he was on his way back.

Barry:
Poor old Mox! All alone in the night... it's bitter out, you know.

Neville:
I wonder where he is now, eh? Probably sleeping rough.

Oz:
Aye, he's probably curled up in some bloody ditch. Scared stiff, bloody frozen stiff.

Barry:
[Shakes his head] I think it's terrible... Still... [Polishes of his whisky] ...as he's gone, I may as well have his bed. [Everyone turns and stares at Barry] Well, there's no point in paying extra for a single room!

Barry:
Are you gonna be in there much longer, Bomb?

Bomber:
You want a written estimate?

Barry:
It's just you've been monopolising it, you know.

Bomber:
It's all right for you. You didn't have a curry last night, did you?

Oz:
[Poking his head out of his room] Morning.

Barry:
Morning... is there another lavatory in this place, Oz?

Oz:
Er... I think there's a bog in the back yard. But if you're desperate, just lob it out the window, man.

Neville:
[From downstairs] Tea's up, lads!

Oz:
[Rushing past Barry, still in his vest and pants!] Breakfast!

Barry:
Oh, I'll just have to hold it. [Follows Oz downstairs.]

Neville:
Morning, Arthur.

Wayne:
Morning. [Neville and Barry sit at the table. Oz yawns and stretches behind Pringle.]

Oz:
I suppose... I suppose it'd be too much to ask for one boiled egg, would it?

Pringle:
[Disgusted with Oz's choice of dress for breakfast] Tea and toast. I told you that when you registered. I'll get some Marmite.

Oz:
Nah, divvn't gan to all that trouble, mate, man(!) [Sits at the table]

Wayne:
Hey, Oz. Oz. Remember what Arthur said. He don't like to be called mate, chief, squire, admiral, petal or bacon balls. [Pringle quickly turns round on hearing that last one, then goes into the back.]

Neville:
How'd you sleep, Barry? Okay?

Barry:
I did, surprisingly enough, yes.

Wayne:
Back in the bosom of your family, ain't it?

Barry:
There's a lot of truth in that, you know, Wayne. I can't tell you how much the thought of being with me muckers sustained me at me time of grief.

Oz:
[Getting up to stand by the fireplace] Oh howay, Barry, man. Yer fiancée hasn't snuffed it, man! She's just got cold feet for a while, man. [Takes the heater out and moves it towards the back of his seat]

Barry:
Oi, oi, pro tem, pro tem. You know, I think that there's something that exists between men that doesn't exist between men and women.

Oz:
Who's sharing a room with him?

Barry:
I'm not talking about that, Oz. That's pretty typical of you, that is! I'm talkin' about comradeship, not turd-burgling!

Pringle:
[Right on cue, brings the Marmite] There you are.

Oz:
Oh-ho-ho! Things are really looking up, aren't they, eh(?) He'll be givin' wor forks and spoons and serviette rings next(!)

Barry:
I don't think women understand that, you see.

Neville:
What?

Barry:
What I'm talkin' about. Comradeship. I think that's what freaked Hazel out when you lot showed up. I dunno, she felt threatened somehow, y'know. She felt, like, excluded.

Oz:
Well, you cannae blame us for what happened there!

Barry:
No, no, no...

Wayne:
I think Barry's right, you know.

Oz:
How's that?

Wayne:
Look, any of our women would've reacted the same, wouldn't they? Eh? I mean, they sort of resent our shared past.

Neville:
Huh. I don't think Brenda felt left out 'cos she didn't share a wooden hut with us lot in Düsseldorf.

Barry:
No, granted, granted, but, say us lot had showed up at your place, all... all laughing and joking, full of the joys of spring. It's bound to have the same effect, innit?

Neville:
She probably wouldn't even notice. Too busy at the hospital or playing badminton with doctors.

Oz:
[With a mouth full of toast] Oh, aye? What's all this, like? Badminton with doctors?

Neville:
She's her own woman, like. I'm all for it.

Barry:
You know, I think that makes a very good living, Nev. Yeah? I think a changing role for woman is inevitable, and right, in this day and age. I mean, we can't chain them to the kitchen sink, can we? [Chuckles] I mean, I've always encouraged my Hazel in her career. Yep.

Oz:
Well, I never discouraged Marjorie from takin' a career. I would've been quite happy for her to gan out and bring a few quid in. But change to her meant something completely different to that. Change to her meant changing from humpin' the bloke at the rates office to humpin' the TV repair bloke, to humpin' some gadgy up Wallsend slipway!

Wayne:
Are we to take it things between you and your Marjorie aren't altogether tickety-boo(?)

Oz:
Well, would ye be with her after that lot?

Barry:
Erm, I'm sorry, Oz, but quite frankly, I think you brought it on yourself.

Oz:
How's that, like?

Barry:
Well, look. When we were in the Falklands, right, you never wrote to her, you never phoned, you never sent any money...

Neville:
Same as when we were in Germany!

Oz:
Yes! Yes, but that's simply because of the sort of woman what she is, isn'it? I mean, she's been humpin' half of Tyneside while my back's been turned.

Barry:
Ah, but which came first, Oz? The chicken or the egg? Your neglect or her promiscuity? And after all, the love you take is equal to the love you make. In the words of John Lennon. I was never quite sure what it meant, actually...

Kenny:
Good morning, Ally.

Fraser:
No, Kenny, it is not a good morning. It is not a good morning at all.

Kenny:
Oh well, if your mood's going to affect your game, we'll double the ante.

Fraser [Putting his bag of clubs onto the back of Kenny's golf buggy] You are the cause of my mood, Kenny! You could say that I'm just a wee bitty peeved with you.

Kenny:
Oh? Why, didn't you like that little masseuse I sent you last week? She did wonders with my back swing.

Fraser:
[Getting his driver out] I'm talking about the house, Kenny. Why did you not tell me that it was a listed building?

Kenny:
You didn't ask me.

Fraser:
How am I supposed to turn it into timesharing units when it's got a preservarion order slapped on it?

Kenny:
I didn't know that was your intention.

Fraser:
Piss off, Kenny! You didn't think I was gonna live there, did you?

Kenny:
Yeah, I did, actually. You'd better tee off, son. There's some people coming. [Ally tees off aggressively, creating a large divot in the teeing area. Kenny laughs] Oh, dear. Oh, dear. What bad luck. [Gets a tee out of his pocket and places it into the ground] You know, I was actually going to live in the place when I first bought the drum. Rather saw myself as a country squire. Got myself all kitted out - guns from Purdies, suits from Daks, bought myself a fishing rod and a Range Rover. [Looks along the hole and shouts] Cuatro!

Ally:
[At the buggy] What?

Kenny:
Fore, you berk. [Hits the ball. It lands in a better place than Ally's. Kenny laughs.] Even went up there a few weekends to inveigle myself with the local populace. Invited the neighbours over for sherry. [Gets in the buggy with Ally.] Even opened a bleeding church bazaar.

Ally:
[As he starts to drive the buggy along the hole] The local populace, I assume, were quite unaware of the fact you were London's leading pornographer?

Kenny:
Oh, yeah. I mean, I kept that shtum. Hinted at the rag trade. I was really getting into it. One day I woke up and I thought, "I'd even like to end my days here." I wasn't being morbid, more philosophical, really. I thought, "If I snuff it, I'd rather like to do it in a typical English rural setting. Preferably with a cricket match on the village green."

Fraser:
And is there honey still for tea?

Kenny:
What?

Fraser:
Rupert Brooke.

Kenny:
Who's he? One of Ronnie Knight's mob?

Fraser:
No, he's a poet, Kenny. Shared your new-found affections for the joys of England.

Kenny:
Oh, I must give him a read. Is he one of the modern ones?

Fraser:
No, no. Long gone, Kenny. [Stops the buggy.] Died in a foreign field. Which is exactly what you will do. [Gets out of the buggy and gets a club.]

Kenny:
Ally, I was set up. That's the tragedy of it.

Fraser:
I feel a wee bit the same way! [Fraser frantically searches for his ball in the rough.]

Kenny:
Oh, come on, Ally. You've acquired a beautiful residence, well below the market value. All you've got to do is to restore it to its former grandeur. [Fraser chips the ball out of the rough.] Why don't you turn it into a fat farm?

Oz:
Bloody hell!

Bomber:
No need for that. [Trying to soothe the dog] Good boy, good boy.

Oz:
Oh, that's an attack dog, that is. It's trained to go for the working class.

Bomber; He's just not used to strangers, are you, boy?

Oz:
Eh, well that's the sort of welcome we can expect roond here. [The dog continues barking]

Barry:
Bit of Alsatian in him, I think. [The dog owner comes out]

Dog Owner:
[Approaching his front gate] Why are you annoying my dog?

Oz:
What?!

Dog Owner:
He doesn't bark for nothing!

Bomber:
We were just having a stroll.

Dog Owner:
[Looking at the three] Who are you people?

Oz:
Who exactly do we have to be?

Dog Owner:
I mean... What are you doing around here?

Barry:
Everybody's got to be somewhere, sir.

Carol:
I, er, brought you some tea.

Wayne:
Oh, cheers. Just finished, as it happens.

Carol:
Is that your job? Windows?

Wayne:
Only when the lads have got a ball. Basically, I'm a chippie. [Takes the mug] Ta. Here, look, I'm sorry about rubbishing your old man, you know. Me and Arthur get on like a house on fire.

Carol:
Oh, well, it's more than I do.

Wayne:
Oh, yeah? [They sit on a bench in the pub car park] Bit iffy, is it?

Carol:
Since my mum left, he's got worse, really. All his children are a terrible disappointment to him.

Wayne:
How come?

Carol:
None of us joined the Air Force. My sister lives with a lecturer, and my brother's gay and runs a health food restaurant.

Wayne:
Oh, yeah? And what do you do?

Carol:
I'm studying sociology at Nottingham. My last year.

Wayne:
And then where?

Carol:
As far away as possible.

Wayne:
[Pulls a cigarette from behind his ear] Here, d'you want one of these?

Carol:
Oh thanks, yeah. [Wayne gives her a cigarette from his packet and lights both cigarettes. Carol takes a drag then exhales.] I used to love it round here when I was a kid. I can't stand it now. The people have changed. They're all the rich overspill from Sheffield, or retired Tories with nothing better to do than complain about Arthur Scargill.

Wayne:
Yeah. I reckon our presence here's raised a few eyebrows. [Carol chuckles.]

Pringle:
[Calls round the side of the pub] Carol!

Carol:
[Sighs] See you later. [Gets up and leaves Wayne.]

Norma:
[As a waitress takes their plates] Well, that was delicious, Dennis. Thanks very much, love.

Dennis:
D'you want a sweet?

Norma:
Oh, I shouldn't really, but... I might think about it later. [To the waitress] Give us a few minutes, pet.

Dennis:
Nothing for me, thanks. I'll have a brandy though, when you've got five minutes. [The waitress leaves. Dennis downs his glass of wine.]

Norma:
I must say this is a rare treat for me, Den.

Dennis:
Well, it's a thank you, Norma. Thank you for givin' us a bed and board, doin' me laundry, puttin' up with me moods, helpin' us with the kids when they come over.

Norma:
This place can't be cheap, though.

Dennis:
Ahh, it's all right. I'll lay some of it off on Ally. Consultations with the architect.

Norma:
Well he can afford it, he'll never notice the difference. D'you know, I saw that Vicky in Fenwicks about a month ago? She had coat on that would've paid for this hotel!

Dennis:
Aye, she's done all right for herself, young Vicky. Mind you, I've always said she'd go far with legs like hers!

Norma:
How long though, Den?

Dennis:
Oh, I just admire them, Norma. I've never measured them.

Norma:
No, man. I'm talkin' about how long before Ally Fraser dumps her! Or before dumps you for that matter.

Dennis:
Ohh, now, let's not start on Ally again.

Norma:
I can't help it, Den! I don't like the man, he gives me the creeps. And I hate you workin' for him, and don't tell me you enjoy it 'cos I know you don't. I know why you're doin' it, of course, for the bairns.

Dennis:
[Defensively] Well, I wouldn't be here if I didn't!

Norma:
Yes, but you're trying to pretend that you're happy. I know you're not. That's you haven't been in touch Neville or any of your friends, isn'it? You try to hide it from me, but I can see right through you, Den. I can see the strain you're under.

Dennis:
Well, this... isn't helpin', is it?

Norma:
See what I mean? See how edgy you are? And you're drinkin' far too much.

Dennis:
Just 'cos I've ordered a brandy?

Norma:
It's got nothin' to do with that. I'm talking about the number of empties I have to throw out every single week!

Dennis:
Look, let's not have another row, eh, Norma? Look, at least the job I've got now suits me fine. I'm doin' what I know, what I'm best at. I've got a team of lads who are doin' a hard day's graft, six days a week, so there's no problems, okay? [Norma shrugs.] Let's see the sweet trolley, yeah? [Sees Oz enter the bar] Oh, Christ.

Norma:
Who is it?

Dennis:
Problems.

Oz:
[Noticing Dennis and Norma] Whoa! How, Den!

Dennis:
How, Oz.

Oz:
[To Norma] Hello, Norma. Again. [They shake hands]

Norma:
Hello, pet.

Oz:
Alreet? [Looks around the restaurant] Right canny place though, but, isn'it? Nice nosh?

Norma:
Yeah, it's lovely.

Oz:
Aye. Bet it is. [The waitress brings the sweet trolley] Oh, strawberries! [Picks a strawberry from the trolley]

Dennis:
Are y'all here?

Oz:
Aye. [Throws a strawberry into the air and catches it in his mouth.] We're in the back bar, we've been scouring for action.

Norma:
Did you find anything?

Oz:
What? Roond here? You must be joking! More chance of findin' a nun in a knocking shop.

Maitre D:
[Approaching the table] Excuse me, sir? Is this gentleman joining you?

Dennis:
Er, no. No.

Oz:
Oh, right, right. Got yer, got yer. [Grabs a few strawberries] Well, look, if yer fancy a snecklifter, we're in the back bar when you finish. [Stuffs a strawberry into his mouth] Nice to see you again. Ta-ra.

Norma:
Ta-ra, pet. [Oz leaves for the public bar. The waitress pushes the sweet trolley towards the table.]

Dennis:
What do you fancy?

Norma:
[Examining the trolley closer] I think I'll have the creme caramel, please. [The waitress gets a creme caramel and puts the dish on top of a plate]

Waitress:
Do you want cream, madam?

Norma:
Oh no, I'd better not. [The waitress places the creme caramel in front of Norma.]

Dennis:
Nothing for me, thanks. Can I have that brandy, please?

Waitress:
Oh. Yes, sir.

Dennis:
A large one. [The waitress leaves with the sweet trolley.]

Norma:
[While tucking into her creme caramel] When I was in the video shop, I talked to Audie Charles.

Dennis:
Aye?

Norma:
Seems she'd been chatting to this woman, and your name came up in the conversation. This woman said that you owe Ally Fraser money.

Dennis:
What? Who? Which woman?

Norma:
Look, I don't know who it was, man. It was a friend of Audie's. The point is, is it true? Is that why he's got such a hold over you?

Dennis:
He hasn't got any sort of hold over me! Look, the reason I work for Ally Fraser is 'cos he trusts me. He's surrounded by so many arselickers, they'd be pished for an answer if he said hello!

Norma:
Dennis! Do you mind?

Dennis:
Look, in case you haven't noticed, Norma, you can't be too choosy about the work you do anymore, especially up our way! [The waitress brings Dennis a brandy.] Thank you.

Norma:
Look, man. It's not that I'm trying to get at yer. I'm just concerned about your state of mind. [As Dennis takes a drink of his brandy] I'm concerned about your health.

Dennis:
[Puts his glass down] Well, don't be.

Oz:
[Making his way through the crowd] Chuck the drinks o'er, Bomb.

Bomber:
Here y'are.

Wayne:
[Approaching a couple sat at a table] Evening. You from 'round here, are ya?

Male Patron:
Yes.

Wayne:
Well, what do you do when the pubs shut?

Male Patron:
I go home.

Wayne:
Oh, so it's all 'round to your place, is it? Here, Bomb, we'll bring a bottle, eh? [Chuckles] No, no. What I mean is, erm, are there any clubs or anything to go to?

Female Patron:
You mean a disco?

Wayne:
Well, I don't mean a rugby club, do I, love?

Female Patron:
[Sighs] You'd have to go into Chesterfield.

Wayne:
That's a bit of a schlep, ain't it? We'd get so pie-eyed, we'd either end up in a ditch, or being breathalysed, eh?

Barry:
Nice place, tihs, innit? Very attractive. Very, er... very upmarket clientele, innit?

Neville:
They don't seem to enthralled to see us.

Barry:
Ah, that's because we're townies, innit, Nev?

Neville:
It's more than that, Barry, man. It's another country 'round here. I tell you what it is, I feel more a foreigner here than I did in Germany.

Barry:
You're... You're very conscious of your working class origins, you are, Nev. I've noticed that about you.

Neville:
You're working class.

Barry:
Oh, yeah, yeah, but I've always been a very good mixer socially, y'see, because I refuse to conform to the rigid rules that society imposes, y'see. I refuse... I refuse to acknowledge class barriers. That's the tragedy of this country, Nev, y'know, the bloody polarisation of the classes. That's why I joined the SDP, you know, mate. It's the party of the future, that is, mate, yeah. Where the old class warfare will be... will be meaningless! You know, sometimes, if you ever really consider that, erm... [Notices an older male patron glaring down at him] ...about... the things that, erm... Good evening.

Treadaway:
Do you realise you're sitting on my stool?

Barry:
Sorry?

Treadaway:
You're sitting on my stool! I've just been away for five minutes. That's my gin and tonic on the bar.

Neville:
That's all right, he hasn't drunk it.

Oz:
[Approaching with Bomber] What's the beef 'ere?

Barry:
It's all right, mate. No problem, I just sat on this gentleman's stool.

Barman:
Is anything wrong, Mr. Treadaway?

Treadaway:
Chap sitting on my stool!

Oz:
What you talkin' aboot, your stool? [Barry tries to stop Oz from escalating things further, but no such luck...] No, hold on, hold on, are you tryin' to tell us that you bring that stool out when you come for a drink, like? Eh? You get to the door with yer stool under yer arm, and you say, "I'm just goin' over the pub, pet, for a pint with me stool." Eh? [The other lads giggle]

Treadaway:
[Furious] Who are you?

Oz:
Who am I? My name's Osbourne. What for, like?

Treadaway:
I shall report you!

Wayne:
You'll lose a bit of face if you do that, mate, 'cos that'll make you a stool pigeon. [They all laugh. Wayne sings] Stool pigeon!

Male Patron:
Somebody should throw those people out!

Bomber:
Oh yes? Like who? [Stands in front of the male patron, flanked by Oz]

Oz:
[Posh accent] Oh, would you like another drink, Mr. Busbridge?

Bomber:
What a good idea, Mr. Osbourne.

Oz:
[Posh accent] Oh righty-ho, then. [Normal accent] Here y'are, chuck. What is it?

Bomber:
Large Smirnoff.

Oz:
[To the barman] Large Smirnoff in there, son, and I'll, er, have a large Glenfiddich with a nice big chunk o'ice floatin' in it.

Barman:
Sorry, it's time.

Oz:
It's time? She's still servin' up there.

Barman:
They're residents.

Oz:
Well, that's alreet, me mate's a resident, Mr. Patterson He's havin' a scran next door in the restaurant.

Neville:
Ah, divvn't bother, Dennis, Oz, man.

Oz:
I'm not ganna bother 'im. We can just put it on his slate and we can give 'im it back in the morning.

Barman:
Sorry. [Raises his eyebrows.]

Barry:
Well, we don't we just have a last one back at the Barley Mow?

Treadaway:
[Sternly] Yes. Why don't you do that?

Oz:
Oh, you're still here, are yer?

Maitre D:
Everything all right, sir?

Dennis:
Yeah. Fine, thank you. Smashing. Good night.

Maitre D:
Good night, sir.

Oz:
All right, all right, man! [The lads leave the bar. Oz turns back to address the patrons] We're going now, alreet? We'll not be comin' back neither! Yer kna, where I come from, people are hospitable towards strangers, but you lot? You've made us aboot as welcome as a fart in an astronaut's suit!

Bomber:
[As Carol brings him a mug of tea] Thank you, my dear. Service with a smile. Makes a change 'round here.

Carol:
Father's hopeless. And he wonders why the place is always empty!

Wayne:
[Entering the bar] Morning, Bomb.

Bomber:
Mornin'.

Wayne:
[To Carol] Hello, love.

Carol:
Someone looks like they had a good night last night.

Wayne:
[Stretching his arms] Yeah. We emptied six pubs.

Bomber:
We've had more exciting evenings.

Wayne:
That game of skittles we had in The Green Dragon was a blinder, though, wasn't it? Right cliffhanger.

Carol:
D'you want a cup of tea?

Wayne:
Yeah, that'd be magic, love. [Carol goes into the back] 'Ere, this place is on the old up-and-up, eh? We'll be havin' Bunny Girls next.

Carol:
[Returning with a mug for Wayne, she pours tea into it] It's only for the day. Dad's gone into Sheffield, so I said I'd look after the place.

Wayne:
I'll give you a hand if you want, love. I can pull pints. [Carol smiles as she goes into the back]

Bomber:
[Looks disappovingly at Wayne] That's not what you want to pull.

Sir James:
So many of these houses have these old stables and barns. They just stand around doing nothing except decay. [Points to the barn] So I thought I'd utilise this. Make a games room for the kids and an office for myself. The sort of thing one's always planning to do but never has the money or the time to get around to it.

Neville:
Oh, aye. I know what you mean. I've been promising to retile our bathroom for the last two years! [They chuckle]

Sir James:
[as they walk to an old barn on the property] What do you think, Neville? Would it cost an absolute fortune?

Neville:
I wouldn't have thought so. You'll have to run cable in, like. [Sir James nods] The roof's not bad. Let's have a look. Might need a bit of insulation...

Barry:
[Talking to a couple of trout Oz caught] Hello. Hello! Hee-hee! [Notices a man running towards them in the distance] Oh, look. There's somebody coming.

Oz:
Where?

Barry:
Over there, look. He's heading this way. [The man waves angrily at them. Barry waves back oblivious. Oz dashes out of the river.] He's waving at us. Hello!

Oz:
Get your jacket on.

Barry:
Eh?

Oz:
Get yer jacket on, man! [Sticks the trout into his coat pockets]

Barry:
What's the rush all of a sudden? I wanna have a go meself.

Oz:
He might be a bloody gamekeeper.

Barry:
[Spluttering] G...Gamekeeper? Are you tryin' to tell me this is illegal or something?

Oz:
[Grabbing his boots] Well, of course! Poaching's not legal, is it?

Barry:
Poaching?! Wait... [Grabs his jacket and runs after Oz] You never told me about bloody poaching!

Oz:
Well you don't think this place is open to the public, do yer? People pay a fortune for a rod of river, man.

Barry:
[Panicking] Well, how serious is it, then?

Oz:
[As he gets into Barry's van] Well, let's put it this way - if they catch wor, I don't think we'll make the Crown Court.

Barry:
[Getting into the driver's seat] You might have bloody said so! [They drive away before the gamekeeper can catch them.]

Wayne:
Er, Bomb?

Bomber:
What?

Wayne:
Time, gentlemen, please.

Bomber:
What are you talking about? It's only ten to.

Wayne:
Oh, use your savvy.

Bomber:
[Approaching Wayne] You never give it a rest, do you, Wayne?

Wayne:
Be a mate, Bomb.

Bomber:
And what am I supposed to do?

Wayne:
Well... You could get something to eat.

Bomber:
I've eaten. I went down the caff at half eleven.

Wayne:
If I gave you a couple of quid, you could go to the picture.

Bomber:
There's not a cinema within miles.

Wayne:
The ultimate gesture, Bomb. The keys to me car. Now, apparently, there's this lovely waterfall down the road, very picturesque it is. [Bomber reluctantly takes Wayne's car keys and leaves the pub. Wayne turns the clock to half past two and calls out to the only other person in the bar, an elderly gentleman] Er, excuse me, sir? [He points to the clock, and the gentleman quickly finishes his pint.]

Oz:
[Reading a paper] Want some more tea?

Barry:
No, I won't actually. That was quite elegant sufficiency.

Oz:
Nice, weren't it?

Barry:
[Wiping his mouth with a napkin] Mmm, it was. [He lifts a curtain and looks outside to see Jessup inspecting his van before storming towards the café.] Oz?

Oz:
What?

Barry:
There... there's that bloke.

Oz:
What bloke? [Turns to Barry]

Barry:
The, um... ga-gamekeeper. He's coming this way, mate.

Oz:
[Getting up to get his coat] Er, get the bill.

Jessup:
Excuse me?

Oz:
[Turns to Jessup] Yes? What?

Jessup:
About half an hour ago, you and your mate were down by the river, weren't you?

Oz:
[Plays dumb for a second] ...What river?

Jessup:
You know perfectly well what river!

Oz:
[To Barry] Did we pass a river anywhere today on wor travels?

Barry:
Um, we... um... I think we did, yes, yes, when we were having our walk, we...

Jessup:
You had no right to walk there. That's private property, that is!

Barry:
Well, we weren't supposed to know that, sir, no, because we're not from round 'ere, y'see.

Jessup:
There are notices posted! You can read where you come from, can't you?

Oz:
Ey, just a minute, just a minute. There's no call for that, is there?

Female Customer:
Excuse me, please... [Jessup and Oz move for the customer, who gets her coat from the hatstand] Thank you. [She leaves the café.]

Oz:
I mean, are you tryin' to tell me there's all those acres of land out there, but we can't walk on 'em? Eh?

Jessup:
There are public footpaths.

Oz:
I'm not talkin' about the footpaths, I'm talkin' about all those miles of fields and moor oot there. I mean, me an' 'im were in the Falklands, y'know. [Motions to Barry] The Falklands! Aye. [The commotion has caught the attention of the other customers in the café] And the only thing what kept wor goin' there was the thought of gettin' back here - hopefully - and walkin' once again through England's green and pleasant land, what we fought to preserve!

Barry:
We weren't actually there during the hostilities.

Oz:
Oh, but we were rebuilding the land that had been ravaged, weren't wa, by the invader.

Jessup:
[Somewhat taken aback, he adjusts his tie] Well... it doesn't give you the right to go poaching.

Oz:
Poaching for what?

Jessup:
Trout.

Oz:
Trout? Trout... can you see any fishing rods, like? [Turns to Barry] Have you got a fishing rod stuck down yer trouser leg? [Barry laughs]

Jessup:
You can tickle them.

Oz:
[Scoffs] You can tickle 'em! [Chuckles] Have yer heard this? What, I suppose you tickle 'em until they're so weak with laughing that they jump out of the river and into the pan? Is that it? "Tickle them"!

Jessup:
Have you any idea how serious an offence it is?

Oz:
Look, mate, before you go talkin' about offences, you need evidence, don't yer? Right? So I'll tell yer what we'll do. [Points to Barry, then to outside] His van is parked outside, so you can go an' search it, right, and you can search him... [Points to Barry again] ...and you can search me, all right? That's fair? Come on! [Oz holds up his hands while Jessup reluctantly searches his coat] This is typical, this, you know. Typical of the welcome you people give to strangers! [Points at Jessup with his paper] But I'm tellin' you, if you don't find anything, I want a public apology, right? [Jessup feels something, but it feels like keys rather than a trout] Huh? Yeah?

Jessup:
I'll try the van.

Oz:
Yes, we'll try the van. Typical! [They leave the café]

Barry:
Oz? Oz, Oz, Oz, Oz, Oz...

Oz:
[To Barry] Ssh. Ssh. [Barry heads over to open his van] Look, just get, the... get it open. [To Jessup] Right? Apology.

Barry:
[Frantically searching his coat pocket] I've just got to find my keys... [Reaches into his trouser pocket] Oh, found them. [Meanwhile, a few cars down, the customer from earlier looks through her handbag for her car keys but can't find them. She reaches into her coat pocket... and pulls out a trout! She shrieks as she throws it onto her car bonnet, which catches the attention of Jessup. She pulls out the second trout and shrieks again as she throws that beside the other trout! Jessup just looks at Oz and Barry. Caught red handed!]

Dennis:
[Points to a page] This one sounds all right, The Pheasant at Ilworth. [Reads from the book] "This old coaching inn has been lovingly restored by Trevor Beaumont, while his partner Nigel Fox runs the kitchen. Local produce, market-fresh vegetables. Among their specialties, we particularly recommend rack of lamb and fresh local trout."

Norma:
Oh, that sounds good, Den.

Dennis:
Aye. Give that a go later on, eh?

Norma:
Definitely, yes.

Dennis:
Right, er... I'd better book. [Closes the guide and gets up to go to the phone when Bomber walks in] Hello, Bomber.

Bomber:
Dennis!

Dennis:
What're ya up to?

Bomber:
Well, I've been driving 'round the countryside, and I picked up a hitchhiker. [Stands aside to reveal Moxey behind him.]

Dennis:
Moxey!

Moxey:
Hello, Den.

Dennis:
Er, I don't think you've met me sister. Norma, this is Moxey and Bomber.

Norma:
Hello.

Dennis:
Erm... [Takes Moxey and Bomber aside] ...is everything all right, is it?

Moxey:
Er, yeah, yeah. Er, I had to go down to London, y'know, to sort a few things out, like. But I got me cards, so there should be no more problems in that department.

Dennis:
Oh, champion, 'cos the architect tells me we'll be back at work on Monday with a bit of luck, like. So you've timed that rather well, Moxey.

Moxey:
[Hushed] Er, Den?

Dennis:
Yeah?

Moxey:
It's not Moxey any more.

Dennis:
What?

Moxey:
No. It's, er, Brendan Mulachy.

Dennis:
Brendan what?

Moxey:
Mulachy.

Norma:
Dennis, shall I order some more tea for everybody?

Dennis:
Er... I tink it's about time for a drink, isn'it, lads?

Bomber:
I wouldn't say no to that.

Dennis:
Aye, why not? Come on, let's have a drink. Things seem to be shapin' up for once.

Waitress:
[Emerging from the door] Mr. Patterson, could you come to the phone, please?

Dennis:
Yeah?

Waitress:
It's the police. A couple of your lads have been arrested.

Jessup:
Good afternoon, Sir James. I'm sorry about this.

Sir James:
[Looking into the holding room, as does Neville] Are those the chaps?

Jessup:
Yes, sir. I caught them red-handed.

Sir James:
Oh, dear. [Turns to the desk sergeant] So, what do I do?

Neville:
Excuse me, Sir James? Could I have a word with you, please?

Sir James:
Of course, Neville.

Neville:
No, no, I mean in private, like.

Neville:
Those two poachers... they're my workmates.

Sir James:
Really?

Neville:
I'm sure they wouldn't have known what they were doin'. I mean, they wouldn't have known it was your property.

Sir James:
I suppose not.

Neville:
See, we're townies, aren't we?

Sir James:
I suppose so. The thing is, they [The locals] take a dim view of that kind of thing, and being the landownder, I'm supposed to set an example.

Neville:
Well... they could make amends.

Sir James:
How?

Neville:
Well, instead of paying the fine, maybe they could help me fix your barn.

Sir James:
Well, it does seem a lot of fuss about nothing, and Celestia and I could have that trout for supper.

Bomber:
Hi, Neville.

Dennis:
What's happenin', Nev?

Neville:
It's all right, Dennis. Sir James and I have fixed everything.

Oz:
I'm just sayin', Barry, we're not outcast anymore, are wa? Not now that Nev's like hat with the local nob. [Crosses his fingers] We're bonafide pillars of the community. [Opens the door of the Barley Mow and starts to head in, followed by Moxey.]

Bomber:
Aye, they won't push us around now. [They notice Wayne sat on the far side of the car park with all their baggage and tools]

Barry:
Ey, what's going on?

Dennis:
What?

Barry:
What's he doing?

Moxey:
[As he and Oz head out of the door] It's Wayne, with all the gear out there.

Oz:
What? What's gannen on?

Wayne:
Where have you lot been? I'm bloody freezing!

Dennis:
Never mind that! What's happening here?

Wayne:
Well, Arthur's chucked us out, hasn't he?

Oz:
Wha? He cannae dae that, man!

Wayne:
Well he can, it's his pub and he's done it, hasn't he?

Bomber:
Gotta have a reason, though.

Wayne:
Well he's always been a bit iffy about us being here, ain't he?

Neville:
We're paying customers now though.

Wayne:
But we do make a lot of noise and some of us occasionally go over the top.

Oz:
Well, maybes... maybes once.

Wayne:
But you did kick in his jukebox, didn't you and he weren't too happy about that, was he?

Oz:
Aww, I might have known it'd be down tae me again as usual!

Wayne:
[Gets up] Come on, let's load up, eh?

Barry:
Hold on a tick, I'm not taking this lying down!

Moxey:
It's got nowt to do with me, I never stayed there once!

Dennis:
[To Wayne] Oi, oi, come here a minute! Look, if he's turfing the whole six of you lot out, you must have put up some sort of black! What have you been up to, eh?

Wayne:
Well... I suppose him finding me in bed with his daughter had something to do with it.

[Furious, the lads chase Wayne into the back car park]

Oz:
[To Moxey] Nae room at the inn... again. Same auld story - sudden party of travelling salesmen booked in this afternoon, yer kna what I mean?

Neville:
Any joy, Barry?

Barry:
That's difficult to say really, Neville. It's strictly no overalls, no muddy boots, no alcohol and lights out by 10:30!

Neville:
Could be worse.

Barry:
It is - they've only got double beds, and one of us'll have to sleep with Oz!

Barry:
What's the score?

Moxey:
Five knockbacks. Everywhere we've tried had a sudden spate of bookings!

Oz:
Yeah, it's obvious the ol' Pringle's been on the blower. Looks like we've been blacklisted by the entire Licensed Victualler's Association of North Derbyshire!

Neville:
Ah, we've not done much better.

Oz:
Yeah?

Neville:
The places we've tried aren't exactly geared to the needs of the working man.

Barry:
Well... spa country this, ain't it, Nev, eh? Gentility rules.

Moxey:
So, what do we do now?

Barry:
Well, as Contingency Plans A and B seem to have failed, I suggest we try Contingency Plan D.

Oz:
Which is what?

Barry:
Find somewhere in Chesterfield.

Oz:
Chesterfield?! That's ganna mean a fifty mile round trip! Look, man, we're ganna be wrecked before we even get to work, which means we're ganna be more wrecked before we get on the drink!

Barry:
Which leaves Contingency Plan E.

Moxey:
What's that?

Oz:
Which is what?

Barry:
Move into the house itself.

Oz:
Aww, I divvn't know about that!

Barry:
It gets my vote, fellas! Listen, listen, it's cheap, right, it's big, and we'll have it all to ourselves, right.

Moxey:
Yeah, right! It gets my vote an' all! I stayed in the pantry one night and survived!

Neville:
Yeah, only just.

Oz:
Ah, it's pretty crusty though, isn'it, eh? It's in a hell of a state. Partly due to the fact that we've been knocking seven colours out of it, like. I mean, even the rats have pissed off!

Barry:
Look, um... I said we'd give Dennis a ring before eight. See what he says, eh?

Oz:
Aye, leave it to the leader.

Dennis:
[On the phone to Barry] Yeah. Okay. Alright, thanks, thanks a lot. [Puts the phone down and speaks to Bomber and Wayne.] They've drawn a blank, so it looks like a move into the manor for the moment. Sorry, Bomber.

Bomber:
It's not your fault, Dennis. You're only the gaffer on site. You can't be responsible for any irresponsible act of any daft bugger outside of work.

Dennis:
Right, come on. [Dennis and Bomber leave, leaving Wayne to carry his and Bomber's bags out.]

Bomber:
I found this, Wayne. Should take the chill off the room.

Wayne:
You'd need a bloody blowlamp to take the chill out of the atmosphere, though, wouldn't you?

Bomber:
[Setting the rug down] 'Tis true you wouldn't win any popularity contest at the moment.

Wayne:
[Moving a chair and some throws] Look, if I'd known old Arthur was going to reach that badly, I'd have thought twice about strumpin' his daughter, wouldn't I?

Bomber:
Yes, and having had those thought, you'd still have gone and done it. [Starts laying the rug as Wayne sweeps the debris from its path] Knob law, that's what you're ruled by, Wayne. As soon as there's a fire in your loins, there's a freeze-up in your brain.

Wayne:
Yeah, but normally it's only me that suffers, ain't it? Grazed knee from shinning a few drainpipes, the odd pulled muscle from doin' it to the old Bolero at 45 instead of 33. [Bomber looks up, still mad at Wayne] Yeah... Look, I might have dropped me mates in it 'cos I couldn't say no to an afternoon of passion, but she wasn't 'alf worth it.

Bomber:
Well that's some consolation to us, Wayne(!) [Gets up] Right... while you finish your jankers, I'll have a scout around, see if I can't find some mattreses and cushions. [Leaves the room...then pokes his head around the door] You'd better decide which one of the twenty-two bedrooms you're gonna lock yourself in!

Barry:
Ah, yes, yes. That's better, innit? At least one room's habitable. Yeah. Y'know, I could see us settling in here, what with the idyllic country view, the flickering glow from the fireside... elegant room... Do y'know, this could be... this could be Brideshead Revisited.

Neville:
Reminds me more of Gateshead Revisited. All it needs is a tin bath in the hearth.

Barry:
Ah, never mind, Nev. Here, look, we'll get some sleeping bags in Asda tomorrow. Y'know, that's fantastic...

Wayne:
Yeah, you're right, actually...

Barry:
[Angry] Who asked for your opinions, dickbrain?

Neville:
We could do with a rest from you, Wayne! Okay?

Wayne:
All right, fine, fine. Look, I've tried to say I'm sorry, but I can't do much more, can I?

Neville:
No, but don't go expecting instant forgiveness, all right?

Bomber:
It's all right. I told him - a few days in the doghouse, and if he keeps his nose clean and stays out of trouble, he might get some remission.

Wayne:
Yeah, but I mean, Barry sort of likes it here, don't he, so I'm doin' him a favour, ain't I?

Bomber:
Wayne...

Wayne:
...Yeah, all right. Shtum.

Dennis:
Er, right, lads. Can I just have a minute?

Oz:
Have as long as you want, Dennis. We're not goin' anywhere, are we? [Glances at Wayne as he walks past. Moxey hands some beers out.]

Dennis:
Now, then, er... [Moxey gives a beer to Dennis] Thanks. Considering the short notice in which our previous tenancy agreement was terminated... [Also briefly glances at Wayne] ...you lads haven't done too bad to get this place habitable. [Oz puts up a picture of Arthur Scargill.] I mean, er, I kna it's not perfect by any means, but at least it's a roof over your heads. Now, as far as work's concerned, we've had clearance to start again, but, er, depending on what Ally Fraser has in mind for the place, we have to wait for the architect to come up with the new plans. So, in the meantime, if Bomber and Oz, if you concentrate on the cellar.

Oz:
Right.

Dennis:
Erm... Moxey, Wayne, make good the panelling and the plastering that's been ripped away. You can start on the electrical work, Barry. Neville, stop in the kitchen. [Moxey taps Dennis's shoulder] What's the matter, Moxey, man? [Moxey whispers to Dennis.] Oh, aye. We've got this, er... new bloke working for wor now. You tell 'em, Moxey.

Moxey:
Yeah. Well, er, as some of you already know, I've got a new identity. So as far as officialdom's concerned, I'm now Brendan Mulachy.

Oz:
Oh, what! [The others laugh]

Moxey:
So it'd help, like, if you started callin' us Brendan so as I can get used to it...

Neville:
[Laughing] It's gonna take a while.

Moxey:
Yeah, will you call us by me new name, but then all of a sudden, out of the blue, like, call us by the old one, y'know, just to test me reflexes.

Dennis:
I didn't kna you had any, Moxey! Oh, sorry... Brendan.

Wayne:
Hey, what I don't understand...

Oz:
Shut yer gob, you!

Neville:
Who asked you?

Dennis:
Right, lads, er, I've got to leave this happy band, and er, get back to Cross Keys, all right?

Oz:
[Putting up a Page 3 picture next to Scargill] Oh, aye. It's alreet for some, innit?

Dennis:
Look, it's only for one night, Oz, man. I'll be back in with you lot tomorrow.

Oz:
Oh, not now you're a gaffer you'll not, will yer?

Dennis:
What?

Oz:
I said... that... even though we're sleepin' on the site now, we'll want travelling time, alreet? You can tell Ally Fraser that.

Dennis:
Oh, aye? And what if he wants to start charging you rent for livin' on his property? [Oz, speechless, turns his attention back to his posters] Right. Oh, aye. here. [Throws the keys to his van to Neville] I'd better take your car, Wayne, because you lads'll need the van to gan shopping.

Wayne:
Nah, hang on...

Dennis:
Right, come on. [Wayne hands Dennis his car keys.] Right. I'll be over tomorrow afternoon, after I've seen the architect, all right? Sleep well!

Oz:
Oh, aye(!)

Dennis:
[About Wayne] Hey, hey. Divvn't be too hard on him, man. I mean, just imagine - if it wasn't for him now, you'd be stuck in The Barley Mow with Arthur Pringle, starin' down his miserable gob. [Leaves the room]

Oz:
Aye. Drinkin' freezin' cold pints of bitter, havin a game of fives and threes, listenin' to his jukebox and eatin' his nice, fresh sandwiches, eh(?) Well done, London! [Throws his beer can at Wayne, it just misses his head!]

Moxey:
[Getting up] Yeah, well, I think I'll go down the galley, get a brew on.

Barry:
Er, Brendan? [Moxey doesn't react as he leaves the room. Barry, Neville and Bomber laugh]

Neville:
Somethin' tells me it's ganna be a struggle for him!

Barry:
[As he and Neville get out of his van, and Oz and Moxey get out of the campervan] Right. I think the most efficient thing to do would be to split up into two groups of two, right? [Taking the shopping list out of his pocket] Then one half could take one half of the list, the other the other, and one can read out while the other gets the stuff off the shelves.

Oz:
Time and motion man in the making(!) Here, give us this. [Takes the list from Barry and glances at it] Right... [Tears off a small part at the bottom] Me and Moxey'll get the beer and the bog rool. Youse two can get the rest.

Neville:
I think Barry had a slightly more even division of labour in mind, Oz.

Oz:
Did he? Oh well, tough shit. He's lucky to get me along on this trip at all! I never thought I'd see the day I was poncing aboot in supermarkets!

Barry:
I've gotta say, Neville, wait 'til we have sleeping bags organised and a proper roster for the kitchen... [Chuckles] ...it'll be just like Germany again.

Neville:
Aye, that's what I'm afraid of.

Barry:
[As Neville gets some butter and places it in the trolley] Nev, look, whatever deprivations we suffered there, and maybe about to suffer again here, there's no denying that sense of communal spirit, is there? [Neville gets some lard] Ah, yes... bacon. Yes, rindless... best back'd be favourite, judging by this morning.

Neville:
We've all move on from there though, haven't we? At least, we're supposed to have done. It's just another depressing indication of our lack of upward mobility that we're still roughin' it, country house or no. Smoked or unsmoked?

Barry:
Erm... get three of each, save arguments. I think I'm tryin' to draw a distinction between quality of life and spiritual progress.

Neville:
Howay, let's get some Wonderloaf to gan with this bacon.

Barry:
Ah, ha, ha, let's get some flour and yeast to go with this bacon.

Neville:
I'd just as soon have bread, Barry.

Barry:
You will have. I bake me own now. Aye. When Hazel and me were betrothed, I took cookery lessons. See, it was very important not to fall into stereotype roles vis-a-vis domestic chores. Anyway, one of the things they taught me was how to make me own bread. And d'you know something, Neville? When they brought my little brown cob out of the oven, hand-baked by me, I... I nearly cried. Y'know, now I think I know how woman must feel when they give birth. [An older lady goes by, leaving Neville looking slightly embarrassed.]

Oz:
Thirsty work, this lot, eh? [Takes a can from the trolley and opens it]

Moxey:
Aye, yeah.

Oz:
I tell yer, what, I'll be even thirstier when I've strung Wayne up by the bollocks for this latest indiscretion!

Moxey:
Yeah, it was bloody thoughtless. Even for him.

Oz:
[Gets to the beer aisle and starts piling the trolley with even more beer] The man's got nae sense of moderation, Moxey man, has he? Enough is never enough.

Moxey:
Er, Oz?

Oz:
What?

Moxey:
D'you think you could stop callin' us Moxey? I'm Brendan Mulcahy now.

Oz:
Is that the best ye could get? Brendan... Mulcackey? I mean, Moxey's alreet. I can get away with that, 'cos it rhymes with poxy. That's nae bother, but... I cannae see you as a Brendan, really, let alone a Mulcackey.

Moxey:
Yeah, well, I'm stuck with it now, aren't I? It's either a Mick name or a life of constant anxiety waitin' for a gloved hand on me shoulder.

Oz:
Hold on a minute... [Heads down the aisle and round the corner... and emerges behind Moxey with a four-pack of Guinness. Irish accent] Fancy a pint o'Guinness, Brendan? [Laughs as he nudges Moxey and throws the cans into the trolley.]

Barry:
[As Neville opens the back doors of the van] Listen... as we've got so much on board, right, I suggest we form a human chain between here and the kitchen, right?

Oz:
Where are you gonna fit into that?

Barry:
All I'm tryin' to do, Oz, is to maximise efficiency and minimise effort, right? So, if you and Moxey help us with the groceries, Neville and I will reciprocate by helping you with the beer.

Neville:
I don't think Oz understands the concept of timesaving, Barry. It's too many years of bein' paid by the hour. [Barry laughs]

Oz:
Excuse me! Excuse me, but we just happen to be one jump ahead of you two duck eggs. [Opens the side door of the camper van to reveal they brought the shopping trolley full of beer and toilet roll with them.]

Moxey:
Smarter than the average bear, we are!

Oz:
Slightly. After you.

Moxey:
Okay... [They lift the trolley out, then go into the Manor, whistling the tune from the Asda ads, complete with Moxey tapping his trouser pocket twice.]

Barry:
How can those two be so smart to think so laterally? [Frustrated, Neville hands the box of groceries he's been holding this entire time over to Barry.]

Oz:
Mind that snake there, Moxey.

Moxey:
Where? Where?! [Drops the sandwiches onto the ground.]

Oz:
Ho-ho! So much for special undercover agent Mulcackey, eh? Falls at the first fence, doesn't he?

Moxey:
[Picking up the sandwiches] It was hardly a fair test, Oz! Anyone would react to a snake warning, no matter what his name was.

Neville:
Ah, it's only what the police'll do, though, Brendan. You can't expect them to write you a letter tellin' you when they're comin' to see you.

Moxey:
I know, I know. I'll just have to concentrate a lot harder. Anyone want a butty? These are ham. [Bomber grabs one.]

Barry:
I'll have cheese and chutney. [Neville grabs one of the sandwiches on the chair. Wayne come up to get a sandwich from Moxey, who turns away from Wayne.]

Neville:
[Grabbing the last sandwich from the tub] Not you! [Wayne turns to the chair.]

Barry:
[Grabbing a sandwich from the chair] Thank you!

Wayne:
[Taking the last sandwich from the chair] Oh, I see. Gonna be like that, is it, eh?

Bomber:
Sorry, Wayne. You can't expect any consideration from us when you show none in return!

Barry:
Who is this Brendan... Mulcahy anyway?

Moxey:
It's Mulachy, Barry.

Barry:
No, it's not. It's Mulcahy. It's the name on the papers.

Moxey:
Yeah, I know. I can't pronounce that, though.

Barry:
What's the point of havin' it as a false name, then?

Moxey:
I didn't have any choice in the matter, y'know. I didn't go to Rent-a-Name. It was an alehouse in Kilburn. I could hardly call meself F-F-Fitzherbert C-Carruthers!

Barry:
Well, it's just as well. You can't pronounce that either, can you? Who is Brendan Mulcahy anyway? I mean, does he exist, or is he just a creation?

Oz:
He's probably a dead man.

Wayne:
And I know how he feels.

Oz:
See, what happens is, one Mick snuffs it over there in potato land, an' his family flog his passport an' that to another Mick so he can come over here an' work, y'know.

Bomber:
That's not all he might get up to either.

Neville:
What? D'you mean the IRA, Bomber?

Oz:
IRA bomber's right. You might find the anti-terrorist squad on yer tail, Brendan, as well as yer ordinary plods!

Moxey:
You're really reassuring you are, Oz(!)

Pringle:
[Upon seeing Dennis] Thirty seconds to get out or I'll call the police!

Dennis:
Arthur! Arthur, hear me out please, will yer? Look, Arthur, I know the behaviour of one of our group has caused you much heartache, and believe you and me, we feel exactly the same about him as you do. I mean, that's why we've disciplined him ourselves in a way you would have approved of.

Pringle:
Castration?

Dennis:
Of the social kind, Arthur, yes. He's, er, he's confined to base, he's in the glass house as you brave fighter pilots might say.

Pringle:
That still leaves the rest of you to make mayhem.

Dennis:
Oh, come on, Arthur, I'm a respectable married man. I mean outside in my van I've got three other men who've done a hard day's graft and simply want a quiet pint and an evening's conversation at your fireside as a reward. I mean they're not rapists, or thieves, vagabonds...

Oz:
[Shouting from outside] HAS THAT BASTARD GIVEN IN YET, DENNIS? [Dennis realises that they won't get anywhere with Pringle now, so he leaves]

Vicky:
Did y'ever see The Thomas Crown Affair?

Fraser:
...Nah, I never went to rock concerts, Vicky, I was busy working.

Vicky:
Man, it was a film! An' in it, Steve McQueen an' Faye Dunaway seduced each other across the chessboard. [Ally doesn't react] Well, it was a very sexy scene.

Fraser:
Really? I imagine you might find that a wee bit uncomfortable, all these bits stickin' into yer bum! [The phone rings. Fraser goes to answer it.]

Vicky:
Will yer make a move now? Otherwise I'm gonna be here all day! [Fraser moves a Pawn one space forward and heads to the phone] Oh, live dangerously, why don't yer(?)

Fraser:
[Answering the phone. It's Howard Radcliff, the architect working on Thornely Manor] Yes? Oh, good morning, Howard, yes. How are ya?

Howard:
[From his new office in a town near to the manor] I'm extremely well, Ally, thank you. I just thought I'd let you know that our planning application's in, and that my personal contact on the council says there'll be no trouble.

Fraser:
Good, I'm very pleased to hear that.

Howard:
My new drawings are also coming along nicely.

Fraser:
Good.

Howard:
I just thought now would be an opportune time to discuss the costing of the materials. I've drawn up three different budges for fitting the surfaces and other interior details.

Fraser:
And, er... how are they running at?

Howard:
At £22,000, £48,000, and top of the range, £65,000.

Fraser:
[As Vicky's Bishop takes one of his Pawns] ...Aye, well, I think, Howard, in view of the revised nature of the premises, er... I think it would be a wee bit of a pity to waste all your fancy-dan trappings on people with one foot in the grave. I think we should err on the side of caution, don't you, Howard?

Howard:
As you wish, Ally, but the first figure I quoted is an absolute rock-bottom, using the cheapest materials available.

Fraser:
That's all right, I've already laid out enough cash on this project. It's time I started earning a nest egg for my old age. So, I want no corner left uncut, Howard. Do you understand? And you can pass that on to Dennis too.

Howard:
Will do. Incidentally, it may interest you to know that he and his lads are currently staying at the house.

Fraser:
Ah... Aye, well, don't mention it just yet then, Howard, but sometime in the future it might be wise to broach the little subject of rent with them.

Howard:
[Chuckles] I'll get the meters read as well, if you like.

Fraser:
I was not joking, Howard!

Howard:
Right. Well, I'll get the plans out to you by the weekend, Ally.

Fraser:
Lovely. I'll look forward to seeing them then. Okay. Bye for now, then. Bye, Howard. [Puts the phone down and focuses back on the chessboard] My God. If Faye Dunaway played chess like you, she'd be lucky if she got a good night kiss. [Gets up, blows a kiss on his palm, which he rubs on Vicky's cheek]

Wayne:
Alright, lads?

Oz:
What's all this?

Wayne:
Well, I thought I'd had a night in with the old gogglebox.

Neville:
Where'd all this lot come from?

Wayne:
I got it, didn't I? It was the least I could do under the circumstances, seeing as I dropped you lot in it.

Dennis:
What's the programme, then? [The TV shows Kenny Ames playing golf in the grounds of Thornely Manor]

Wayne:
It's one of them tapes Oz and Bomber found. I'm not a conniseur of porn, but this looks like a golf lesson to me.

Oz:
Well, fast-forward it a bit. [Wayne does so. No porn, only golf.] Well this is aboot as interestin' as the car park at The Barley Mow, innit, eh?

Wayne:
Ere! Hang on! I did take the liberty of renting a tape for the evening. A bit of a culture delight.

Neville:
What is it?

Wayne:
The Stud. [The lads shout in anticipation as Wayne puts the video in] Thought Joan Collins would go down well. [Unfortunately it's not that film, but a film about a horse]

Barry:
I don't remember this bit...

Oz What's this? That's not The Stud, ya duck egg, man! That's Black Beauty! [The lads groan in disappointment]

Dennis:
Well, it's an easy enough mistake, I mean they've both got horses in the title, mind.

Bomber:
Well, that was a short-lived pleasure.

Wayne:
Yeah, no, hang on! Hang on! Got one more left though! Let's see what's on this one... [Puts the tape in... and it's one of Kenny Ames's sex parties at Thornely Manor]

Oz:
[Points at the TV] Hey, this is this! This is this room, right here, man! Look! [The camera pans round showing Kenny with some younger girls]

Dennis:
Hey, look, it's Kenny Ames! [The lads watch in excitement at the goings-on... then the camera pans round to reveal Arthur Pringle in the arms of a scantily clad younger woman! The lads point and laugh loudly before quietning down so they can hear the TV]

Pee-Wee:
I'm Pee-Wee. What's your name?

Pringle:
[Aroused] It's... Pringle. Arthur Pringle.

Pee-Wee:
Hello, Arthur. And what do you do?

Pringle:
I run the... local pub. Kenny Ames invited me here.

Pee-Wee:
Oh, are you local? Kenny told us to be nice to you. You do want me to be nice to you, don't you, Arthur?

Pringle:
Call me... Call me "Tiger". [The lads laugh uproariously as Pee-Wee gets down and dirty with Pringle]

Dennis:
Right lads, come on, let's get in there, we'll sort the bastard out.. Wayne, I think this is your moment, son! Go on, in you go. [Dennis hands Wayne the tape as they enter the pub and go in to the public bar. Pringle sees them and approaches them]

Pringle:
I warned you..!

Wayne:
[Approaches the bar as the other look on] Before you say anything, Arthur, I want you to know we totally understand. We'd probably have done the same in your position. You know? The wife's done a runner, some topless bit of crumpet's got its legs wrapped right round your neck.

Pringle:
Not only are you rubbish, but you talk rubbish as well! I'm going to call the police! [Picks up the phone]

Wayne:
I wouldn't do that if I were you, old son. [Produces the tape] They might be interested in seeing this. [Pringle puts the phone down] Remember a little party at Thornely Manor? Kenny Ames and a bird called Pee-Wee, and this bloke with a video camera? Yes. Mr. Arthur "Tiger" Pringle, This Is Your Life! [Puts the tape down on the bar. Pringle tries to snatch the tape away but Wayne's too quick for him! The others hum the This Is Your Life theme]

Dennis:
Plastic pipe... plasterboard partition... breezeblocks... chipboard... Every expense spared, eh, Howard(?)

Howard:
Sorry, Dennis, but Ally's desperate to get this project finished so he can ream some cash for his Spanish investments.

Dennis:
What investments are these?

Howard:
I'm sorry, I can't say. But I think you boys are pencilled in as part of them.

Dennis:
A by-offer?

Howard:
[Chuckles] I don't think he sees it in those terms, largely because he doesn't need to buy you lot off. He pays, you do. That's the relationship, isn'it? Pure and simple.

Dennis:
Howard, for an architect, you don't seem to know anything the people in the building trade. I mean my lads are no bunch of Girl Guides, God knows, but they can smell a cowboy job a mile off, man! And if they don't like it it...

Howard:
They can piss off and find work somewhere else!

Dennis:
No, no. They can create a hell of a lot of trouble for the bloke who's abusin' their skills for a quick profit, especially when it means turnin' an old peoples' home into a cardboard death trap!

Howard:
[Takes off his sunglasses] Now, look here, Dennis. I've submitted three separate budgets to Ally for this project. He chose the cheapest one possible because it suited his purposes. It's not for me to make that sort of decision for him. I'm only...

Dennis:
[Interrupting] ...Doin' yer job.

Howard:
That's right.

Dennis:
Howard, listen, man. I've got my reasons for workin' at Ally's orders. Now, I don't like what I'm doin', but I kna exactly why I'm doin' it. Now what's your excuse, son?

Howard:
[Scoffs. Incredulously] I don't have to give you any justifications! Now can we get on, please? [Puts his sunglasses back on]

Dennis:
All right, Jack?

Jack:
'Ey up, Geordie, you back for some more, are we? Must be a right palace you're building out there in the country.

Dennis:
Ugh, it's more like a doll's house from now on. Look at that rubbish, man. [Hands over the order from Howard]

Jack:
[Going over the order] Oh, aye. Definite downturn in style.

Dennis:
Any chance you can get any of that lot up tomorrow?

Jack:
Yes, me duck, I think so. Might have trouble stoppin' some of blowin' off the back of the lorry, though. It's not what you'd call substantial, is it?

Dennis:
Probably why they call 'em breeze blocks, eh? [Jack chuckles] Oh, hey, we need a plumber for a couple of weeks or so. Er... d'you know any good lads locally?

Jack:
Aye. Let me see... [Gets a business card from the pinboard] This bloke from Derby's a top man. Hard grafter, reasonable rates, pleasant disposition.

Dennis:
Aye, he sounds ideal.

Jack:
[Gestures to the phone] Give him a ring now if you want.

Dennis:
Sure it's no bother?

Jack:
Not at all. He's me brother-in-law.

Dennis:
[Picking up the receiver] Ahh. Nepotism, eh?

Jack:
No, just a touch of arthritis.

Wayne:
[Tapping the bar] Another pint here. When you're ready.

Pringle:
...Certainly, sir(!)

Wayne:
Now, now, now, Tiger. Don't overdo the sarkiness. [Barry tries to stifle his laughter] Otherwise we'll have a little video showing for the brewery, won't we? Show 'em what their tenants get up to after hours.

Pringle:
[Bringing the pint over] Did I ever tell you the time when I was taken prisoner in Malaya?

Barry:
No, I don't think so, no.

Pringle:
These little gooks with coloured hair put me in a bamboo cage. [Wayne glances briefly at his dyed dark red hair] They abused me with sticks, humiliated me. They thought they were safe, you see, 'cos I was behind bars. Then I was rescued by my pals in the SAS and as a revenge, I strung the little bastards up by the ankles and horsewhipped them! That'll be 87 pence or do you want this one on the house(?)

Oz:
[Keeping score as Moxey throws] 21... 399. [Moxey collects his darts from the board, and gives them to Oz] Has he said owt to you yet?

Moxey:
Who?

Oz:
Happy Harry, man. Pringle.

Moxey:
No, nothin' Mind you, I'm not exactly lookin' for conversation.

Oz:
[As he throws] I'm just waitin' for one word out of line, me, an' I'll pin his ears to the bloody dartboard with this!

Bomber:
There's still a bit of an atmosphere in here, isn't there?

Neville:
Aye. Reminds me of a funeral parlour, Bomber.

Dennis:
Ah, come on, Neville. You were moanin' when wor were banned from here. Now yer moanin' 'cos we're back. I mean, just be grateful for small mercies, eh?

Neville:
I am. Just find it a bit depressin' to round off me workin' day sittin' in a place where I'm not really welcome.

Bomber:
Could be worse for me. I could be goin' home to the wife. [Dennis laughs]

Neville:
My wife's not like that, though, Bomber. Always makes us feel welcome when I get back from work. Always got a kiss for us, a cup of tea, talk about what sort of day we've had, play with the bairn for an hour.

Dennis:
You homesick, Nev?

Neville:
Me? What makes you think that?

Dennis:
Look, why don't yer take the weekend off? Go up and see your Brenda.

Neville:
Don't think I could afford to lose the money, Den.

Dennis:
It's only for one day, we're not workin' on Sunday.

Neville:
Could I? [Dennis nods] But... would you not be a man short for Saturday?

Dennis:
Nah.

Bomber:
I think Den would rather be shorthanded than have you long-faced.

Neville:
[Cheered up] Ah. Good lad. [Gets up to go to the bar] My round. [Shouts to Oz and Moxey] What do you want, lads? Same again, is it?

Oz:
Aye!

Moxey:
Ah, great, yeah.

Harry:
[Hanging out of the driver door] Howdy! Is there a Dennis Patterson around?

Dennis:
[Approaching] Are you the plumber?

Harry:
[Pointing to the decals on his car] Well, that's what it says, yeah.

Dennis:
Oh. Hi, I'm Dennis.

Harry:
Oh yeah. [Gets out of the car and closes the door] Harry Blackburn. [Shakes hands with Dennis.] I've got all the gear in the back. Er, special discount 'cos it's the brother-in-law, like, y'know.

Dennis:
Oh, well every little helps, like.

Harry:
Right, er... Where d'you wanna start, then?

Dennis:
Well... [Pointing to the lorry] Why don't you give us a hand with this stuff if you don't mind a bit of labourin'.

Harry:
Not me, Dennis. Always happy to muck in. [Laughs]

Dennis:
Good lad. Well, I tell you what, we'll have a break in a minute an' I'll introduce you to all the lads.

Harry:
Yeah. Aye.

Moxey:
Definitely cowboy material, all this, innit? [Bomber nods] Be better off usin' Lego.

Harry:
[In another room, singing] I'll keep on workin' / Long as my two hands are fit to use...

Oz:
Listen. [Joins in singing with Harry] I drink my beer in the evenin's / Sing a little bit of these workin' man's blues. [Harry enters] Merle Haggard?

Harry:
Hey, you're a fan too, are you?

Oz:
A fan? [Laughs] Only met the man, like, Merle. In the flesh. And in Nashville.

Harry:
Well, bloody hell! Hey... [He shakes hands with Oz] Let me kiss your feet, old mate.

Oz:
[Chuckles] A Honky Tonk Night Time Man.

Harry:
Ho! If We Make It Through December!

Oz:
Ooh!

Harry & Oz:
Okie from Muskogee!

Oz:
[Sings] They don't smoke marijuana...

Harry:
[Joins in] in Muskogee!

Dennis:
What's the hold up down there?

Oz:
Nah, that's not one of Merle's, Dennis, is it? Sounds more like Johnny Cash.

Oz:
[Sitting down] 'Ey, what aboot that, then? Me an' Merle, live in Nashville.

Harry:
'Ey, er... I thought he shaved his beard off a few years ago.

Oz:
That's not a beard, man. It's a shadow across his face.

Harry:
Oh, yeah.

Oz:
[Taking the photo back] ...or maybe it is a beard! I dunno. Canny fella, like. He was very pleased to hear aboot me stint in the Falklands, 'cos he's very patriotic, like.

Harry:
A Falklands veteran who's met Merle Haggard? Cor, you're just about the most important person I've ever come across, Oz.

Oz:
Well, between ye an' me, like, I didn't get to dae any actual butcherin' out there, yer kna, just civilan work, yer kna. [Picks up his jar, trying to get an onion out] The runway an' that sorta thing.

Harry:
Still, it's very impressive, though. 'Ey, er... rough, was it?

Oz:
Was nae picnic, son. [Stuffs a pickled onion in his mouth.]

Harry:
What was the worst bit? The, er... the cold, or the shortage of women, like?

Oz:
Well... they were both bad, like. I think the worst thing of the lot was them bloody Jim Davidson visits!

Harry:
[Laughs] No lover of Cockneys, eh?

Oz:
Well... [Looks over his shoulder at Wayne] We've got one on the firm, yer kna, but er, very seldom we see eye to eye wi' 'im, like.

Harry:
'Ere, I tell you what, d'you fancy a few drinks an' a bit of a singsong tomorrow night over my way?

Oz:
Could dae, aye. Ho, that'd have ta be o'er your way, like. We're barred from all the boozers 'round here, an' the only one we can get in we got by blackmail!

Harry:
[Laughs again] 'Ey, I'm gonna enjoy workin' with you lads! [Grabs his beer] Hey, Oz. Cheers. [Raises his beer]

Oz:
Cheers. [Harry drinks his beer, while Oz absent-mindedly drinks the vinegar from the pickled onion jar. He coughs and realises what he's done!]

Bomber:
How can someone so ugly make a nice noise like that?

Dennis:
[Turning to the lads] Must be miming. Miming, ain't he? [Bomber shakes his head.]

Moxey:
What's he called 'imself?

Barry:
"Big Willie", weren't it? True an' all, y'know. Shared a shower with him once in Düsseldorf.

Dennis:
[Still...] Must be miming!

Harry:
Hey, that lad's wasted laying bricks!

Neville:
Alright, lads?

Bomber:
Hello, Neville. Nice weekend?

Neville:
Oh, aye. Not bad, thanks. Ate too much, of course!

Oz:
[Eating from a tin] Cannae whack the wife's cooking, eh?

Neville:
I'll say... [Holding back that he'd made the Sunday lunch] Is Dennis about?

Wayne:
Yeah. He's upstairs sulking in the office.

Neville:
Sulking?

Oz:
Aye. We had a gan at him this afternoon in the bar, y'kna, aboot this job and Ally Fraser an' that. Didn't seem to take it all well, like.

Neville:
Anybody fancy a cup of tea? [Everybody shouts except Barry who's been trying to cook a sausage on the fire, only for it to catch fire!] Everybody? Fine.

Dennis:
Hello, Nev. [Neville puts a mug down on Dennis's desk] Did you have a good time?

Neville:
Aye, not bad. Nice dinner with your Norma today.

Dennis:
Oh, aye? She all right? [Pours some brandy into the mug.]

Neville:
Well... no, she's not all right.

Dennis:
Why? What's the matter?

Neville:
She's worried. About you and Ally Fraser.

Dennis:
Well, I'm hardly having an affair with Ally Fraser, if that's what she thinks...

Neville:
No, but you're more than just an employee, aren't ya?

Dennis:
What are you getting at, Nev?

Neville:
You owing him money.

Dennis:
[Getting defensive] Has Audie Charlies been jangling it again, has she? Look, there's nothing in it, Neville, man!

Neville:
Isn't there not? It would explain a lot of things, Dennis.

Dennis:
Like what?

Neville:
You bodging this conversion, for a start. It's not like you to put up with shoddy work, Den. No, unless that's what Fraser wants from you.

Dennis:
Neville, in case you hadn't noticed, the construction industry in this country's knackered. We can't be too choosy about the work we do anymore because it might be the last we're ganna get! Look, if I can keep my head about water and feed my kids by skimping on a conversion for Ally Fraser, I'm ganna do that, man. So would you!

Neville:
You must owe him an awful lot of money to talk like that, Dennis. [Dennis realises his secret is out.] How much?

Dennis:
[Quietly] £6,000. At the last count. And that's not including interest, like.

Neville:
Which, knowing Ally Fraser, will be about 50%! Why, Den? For God's sake...

Dennis:
You wouldn't understand, Neville, man! Look, you've got a happy marriage. And I've never had one. I mean, yer kna what it was like for me when I came back from Germany, what with Dagmar and... [Sighs] For a while I tried to make things better by throwing money about. I was wrong, wasn't I? By the time I realised I was wrong, it was too late. I'm in a hole now, with Ally Fraser looking down at me.

Neville:
Well, why didn't you tell us? We're your mates!

Dennis:
It doesn't concern you, Neville, not directly, anyway!

Neville:
It does! If we're having to compromise ourselves as well, it does!

Dennis:
Neville, man, it's just a piddling little four-week job. If I bring it in on time, into Fraser's meagre budget, I'm in the clear. And if I don't... well... I might just end up in the Tyne with my pockets full of bricks.

Howard:
Morning, Dennis!

Dennis:
How do! [Howard gets out of his Range Rover with the plans.]

Howard:
There's been another slight change in the plans. The kitchens this time.

Dennis:
Don't tell me... they only have to be big enough to fit, er, one microwave oven?

Howard:
Close, close. Well, let's go and see how far your lads have got, shall we?

Howard:
Ah, morning, fellas. It's a bit early for a tea break, isn't it?

Dennis:
Aye. Howay, lads, shape up a bit, eh?

Oz:
If ya took them stupid glasses off, Hedgehog, and had a look about you'd see there's nae teacups lying around. That's 'cos it's not a tea break, it's a strike!

Howard:
[Incredulously] A strike?!

Bomber:
That's right, sunbeam. A strike.

Howard:
Ah, well you'd better sort this out with your gaffer.

Neville:
No, you sort it out with yours! You tell Ally Fraser nothing gets done here 'til he upgrades his conversion! And, more importantly, he takes the squeeze of Dennis!

Dennis:
Look, Neville...

Neville:
It's all right, Den, we're all determined about this.

Howard:
Hey, now, what's going on here?

Oz:
Look, you got the message, didn't you, Hedgehog, eh? Piss off and pass it on to Fraser.

Howard:
Right. If that's the way you boys want it. [Howard storms off.]

Dennis:
[Knowing Fraser will send his goons down to confront them] Thanks a bunch. [Sits on a broken toilet] Thanks a bunch.

Oz:
Nev told wor all about it, yer kna, everything.

Dennis:
So I gather.

Bomber:
Dennis... it seemed like a choice between doing this job properly or being loyal to you.

Dennis:
So, what happened?

Oz:
Well, we figured we can do both.

Harry:
[Singing] Oh, don't forsake me, oh, my darling / On this our wedding day... [Stops singing and tilts his hat up to see Ally's Jag approaching] I think the boys from the brown stuff have just arrived! [The Jag stops in the grounds. Big Baz and some other goons get out as the lads gather.]

Barry:
Er... did I ever tell anyone I was a Quaker?

Big Baz:
We've come to persuade you back to work.

Oz:
Well, you just failed!

Wayne:
I don't suppose we can reason with 'em, eh?

Bomber:
I think it's too late for that now. [Barry puts his glasses on.]

Dennis:
[On seeing Harry take a large monkey wrench out of his holster] That's what I call a monkey wrench.

Harry:
Oh, yeah. I know how to use it, an' all! [Throws it at the goons, it hits the Jag and breaks the windscreen. The goons and the lads rush towards each other.]

Barry:
Don't hit me, don't hit me! I'm a bleeder! [The goon grabs Barry. Meanwhile, Bomber grapples with Big Baz.]

Moxey:
[With a goon, arm behind his back] Anyone got a match? I'll set fire to this bastard! [The goon uses his other elbow to hit Moxey and punch him to the ground.]

Harry:
[On another goon's back] Yeah! The Fightin' Side of Me, Oz. Remember that? It's one of Merle's best! [Oz smashes a chair over another goon's back and knocks him out.]

Dennis:
[Gets on another goon's back. To Neville] Get him! Go on, hit him! [Neville starts punching at the goon's torso. Barry faints.]

Bomber:
[To Big Baz] If you fights dirty, I can get angry! [Grabs Big Baz and punches him in the face. Barry wakes up and runs away. Oz jumps on top of the Jag and leaps on Barry's pursuer, sending all three to the floor. Oz punches him out while Barry gets up. He almost kicks him, but pauses.]

Oz:
[To Barry] Do you want to? Go on. [Barry feebly kicks the goon.] There!

Oz:
Ahhh! Get seven pints on the bar, as quick as you like, Arthur!

Pringle:
It's a bit early, isn't it? Even for you lot!

Wayne:
Well, we're taking industrial action, ain't we, Tiger?

Bomber:
Get that beer out in support, Arthur.

Pringle:
I thought strikes had gone out of fashion with the working classes since Scargill got his arse kicked!

Neville:
Ey, this was a unanimous decision though, Arthur. No need for a ballot!

Wayne:
Yeah, besides, we're striking on a matter of principle here, son. Care of the elderly, so you should be flattered, shouldn't you? [The lads laugh, Pringle doesn't.]

Barry:
One day, I reckon our names will be as famous as the Tolpuddle Martyrs in the great tapestry of organised labour.

Pringle:
Perhaps you'll suffer the same fate: transportation to Australia.

Oz:
[To Barry] What was their names, them Tolpuddlers?

Barry:
I don't know the individual identity of the gentlemen concerned, Oz, but that's not important. No, it's their collective sacrifice that counts. I should think they're a couple of Poldarks or Penmarrics, 'cos they're from Bomber's part of the world, right?

Oz:
I wonder what we would have been called?

Pringle:
I can think of a few names!

Bomber:
How about the Thornely Manor Magnificents?

Neville:
Aye. We'll be the Derbyshire Dummies if Ally Fraser closes the job down wi'out payin' us.

Harry:
No, no, no despondency please, eh? We won a great victory this morning.

Pringle:
[To Wayne] Right. That'll be £6.09, or do you want me to contribute this to the strike fund?

Wayne:
No, no, no, you might as well have it while we've got it, Arthur. There you go. [Hands over the money.]

Barry:
Ere, right, perhaps we should organise a kitty until the dispute's resolved.

Oz:
Bollocks! Hey, you divvn't see him gettin' his hand in his pocket often, do ya? Unless yer playin' billiards with hisself!

Wayne:
Oh cheers, Oz(!) I suppose you'll be getting the next round, will ya, eh?

Oz:
[Walks over to the dartboard] I'll mark. I'll play the winner for a tenner.

Neville:
It'll be a bit of a choker if Ally Fraser pulls the plug on us without paying us, won't it?

Wayne:
Yeah. I don't suppose he'll be overgenerous with the old redundancy payments, eh?

Neville:
Have you managed to save anything yet?

Wayne:
Now let me think. Erm... no. Which considering we've been living like Trappist monks, is quite an achievement! Mind you, give me any income you like, Nev, and I'll live beyond it.

Neville:
What have you done with it then? Have you sent some back to Christa?

Wayne:
Yeah, yeah. A few bob here and there, you know. I dunno, mate, it just seems to slip through my fingers, don't it? Mind you, that car don't help much.

Neville:
Thirsty motors, them BMWs. Still, if the worst came to the worst, you could always sell it, I suppose. It must be worth a few bob, eh?

Wayne:
Oh yeah. I could probably get five or six grand for it. Mind you, I couldn't unload it in this country, could I? It's still German-registered. [At this point, Pringle comes into the bar and eavesdrops on Wayne] And of course, there's that small matter of the old import duty, which I inadvertently overlooked!

Neville:
There's always complications in life for us working blokes, isn't there? You claw your way up the cliff face, and there's always some bugger at the top, waiting to stomp on your finger ends. It's probably Ally Fraser's turn today.

Barry:
What will you do if we get laid off, Bomb? Head for home?

Bomber:
I should think so, Barry. Throw myself at the mercy of the wife and the DHSS. Mind you, it's a toss-up who'll give me a harder time. [Barry chuckles.] How about you? Would your young lady keep you?

Barry:
She won't even have me at the moment, let alone keep me. No, no, I'll give me business a couple of months and if it still don't take off, I'll try one of those sunrise industries.

Bomber:
I can't see you as a milkman, Barry!

Barry:
[Laughs] No... Bomb, I'm talking about high-technology jobs, you know, computers and, you know, all that stuff. Yeah, with my electrical background I should stand some chance, eh? Mind you, I'll probably be replaced by a smidgen of silicon with a thousand million faculties and a bloody Oxbridge accent.

Bomber:
Nothing can take the place of you, Barry.

Barry:
[Bashfully] Bomb... thanks very much, like.

Howard:
[Upon seeing Fraser] Ally? [Turns off radio.] I didn't know you were in England

Fraser:
I had to come over, didn't I, Howard? Sort out the uprising.

Howard:
Oh dear... I hope there was no unpleasantness.

Fraser:
Oh no, more of a sort of skirmish, Howard. A lover's tiff, wouldn't you say, Dennis?

Dennis:
Aye, Big Baz and Bomber will have announced their engagement any minute I expect! [Fraser and Howard laugh]

Fraser:
[As he and Dennis sit on a sofa] Now then, Howard, you must have some malt whisky in this expensive looking office that I'm paying for?

Howard:
Coming right up...

Fraser:
Bring the bottle over. Dennis and I have got a bit of negotiating to do. [Howard does so.] That's it, shirtsleeve order. Beer and sandwiches at TUC headquarters.

Howard:
I've got a couple of sesame seed bars if you'd like.

Fraser:
Oh, no thank you.

Dennis:
No, save mine for the budgie's cage. [Howard sits down and starts pouring out the whisky.]

Fraser:
Right, now, item one on the agenda: as a result of the case put forcibly to me by Dennis and his brothers, I hereby agree to upgrade the ongoing conversion on Thornely Manor. Now, Howard, have you still got that medium-range budget on file, have you?

Howard:
Well, yes, but it means jumping up another 20 grand or so!

Fraser:
No, no, I can live with that. Dennis has persuaded me that it would be a great pity to skimp on a building of such architectural heritage, especially if there's gonna be a lot of old dears knocking it around soon. On that subject, just make a note on that pad there to increase the projected fee structure for the resident gentlefolk.

Dennis:
Passing the costs on already, Ally?

Fraser:
Oh, Dennis, if we're going to go upmarket, we can attract a better class of pensioner. If you look in the wills column in the Daily Torygraph, you'll see there's quite a few around with a package stashed away.

Howard:
[To Dennis] I'm amazed you got him to agree to this!

Dennis:
Right, well, beneath that flinty exterior beats a heart of gold, man.

Fraser:
Don't let it get around, Dennis.

Dennis:
He's also aware that if he hadn't changed his mind, the VAT people would have got an enormous tip-off about certain unpaid taxes on the building work.

Fraser:
Item two: I also hereby agree to waive my rights on the rent monies payable to me from Dennis and his boys after having squatted on my property for the past few weeks.

Dennis:
For heart of gold, read "nugget".

Fraser:
And as for my personal loan to Dennis: the terms of the debt remain the same. Complete the job on the Manor, and we're all square. And I think I can see a way to writing off the interest payable on the loan, which incidentally, Dennis, is currently running at £2,648, give or take a few coppers.

Dennis:
What's the catch?

Fraser:
No catch. An absolutely straightforward proposition as regards your boys. You keep them on the payroll for my next project, and we will be as sweet as a bun!

Wayne:
Well, what's the word then, Den? Are we out of a job of what?

Dennis:
No, no, no. Listen. Ally's finally agreed to put some proper work in at the Manor. [The lads breathe a sigh of relief]

Oz:
I knew we could twist the bastard's arm over that.

Dennis:
But, there's a little, small, er, as you might say, there's a small snag.

Neville:
What, he wants us to take a cut in wages?

Dennis:
No, no, he wants us to do this next job for him...

Oz:
We haven't even finished this one yet, ha' we?

Dennis:
...in Spain.

Neville:
[Surprised] Spain?!

Dennis:
[Walking in] 'Ey, I'm knackered! 'Ey, we've been thrashin' along today, havvn't wa?

Bomber:
New incentive scheme, Dennis, sangria and señoritas. Works a treat.

Dennis:
It's a load o' bollocks, really, yer kna. We're only gannin to Skegness! [Bomber and Neville laugh]

Oz:
I tell yer what it is - if Fraser doesn't come up with this Spanish trip, I'll personally brick 'im up alone in that shithouse.

Wayne:
Listen, Oz, if this trip don't come off, you can brick me up there in there with him. I don't think I could live with the disappointment. Marbells... you've got your pick of your Euro-crumpet in Marbella.

Neville:
We're supposed to be gannin there to work and earn a bit o' money, Wayne. Remember Money?

Barry:
Ah, you're wasting your breath, Nev. I think Wayne has invented a new form of currency - wages for sex.

Harry:
[Sighs] It's crucifying me this, lads. I mean, hearin' all this, knowing I can't come.

Moxey:
An' there's no way you can get out of it, Harry?

Harry:
Not unless they put her dates back. I mean, fancy havin' open heart surgery at a time like this, eh? I mean, it's really inconsiderate, in't it?

Oz:
It is a bit of a pisser, like, 'cos we're bound to need a plumber when we get over to España, aren't we? Kna what I mean? That's just one of the things they haven't yet cracked, isn'it? Like playin' football without hackin' each other to death, or buildin' hotels where all the windows fit, or gettin' all the hairs out of the backs of their bacon rind. These are some of the things what the Spics haven't mastered.

Wayne:
Can I help you, squire?

Customs Officer:
Oh, hello. No, I was... just admiring the car. Yours, is it?

Wayne:
Yeah, that's right.

Customs Officer:
German, I notice.

Wayne:
Yeah, BMWs normally are.

Customs Officer:
No, I meant the registration. [Points to the number plate.] "D-HB", that's the district of Düsseldorf, isn't it?

Wayne:
Perhaps. 'Ere, listen, seein' as you're so bloody good at initials, how 'bout F.O.?

Customs Officer:
...Dunno that one.

Wayne:
Didn't think you would(!) Look, what's all this about, mate? The car ain't for sale, all right?

Customs Officer:
Glad to hear it, because having already avoided import duty, you wouldn't want to break the law again, Mr. Wayne Winston Norris? [Shows his ID] Customs and Excise. [Tears a sheet of paper from his pad] Your receipt, sir. Keys, please, sir?

Dennis:
What's the damage?

Wayne:
I've gotta find about 800 quid before I can reclaim her. 'Til then, she stays there.

Dennis:
You haven't got the money, presumably, have you?

Wayne:
About 799 short of the mark, to be honest.

Dennis:
Well, er... now we're workin', I can pay you some back again tomorrow, then after the next couple of weeks with Ally's bonus for finishing, that should cover it, shouldn't it?

Wayne:
Nah, nah, it's all right. I can find the money, I'm just a bit annoyed with meself for getting caught out. See, when I drove it through Harwich, I told 'em I was just a visitor, didn't I?

Dennis:
Well, you are just a visitor, aren't ya?

Wayne:
You what? Yeah, yeah, yeah. But what I mean is, I should've put it in the wife's name, eh?

Dennis:
Can it not be registered in Christa's name now?

Wayne:
It's too late for that, Den.

Dennis:
Kevin wants, er, Hill Street Blues recording, Norma, if that's alreet.

Norma:
Yes.

Dennis:
Just leave them pots, man, I'll do them later. [Goes to the VCR] Pour us a couple of brandys, yeah?

Norma:
I don't want any more to drink, Dennis!

Dennis:
[While he sets the VCR] Hey, when I was a kid, yer kna, I spent my Sunday mornings either playin' football or at church parade with the Boys' Brigade. Nowadays, they come straight downstairs from their bedrooms and watch sex and violence on the telly. Can't be good for 'em.

Norma:
I blame the parents, meself. [Dennis gets up and pours himself a brandy] Dennis, I don't want to start nagging you but you're puttin' the drink away these days. Is there something bothering yer?

Dennis:
...I just drink when I'm windin' down, Norma. Helps us relax. [He sits on the sofa while Norma sits on the armchair] Anyway, hey, I was readin' this article in The Journal the other day, said, er... drinkers were less likely to have heart attacks than those who didn't drink. Knew I was right all along!

Norma:
Did Neville mention our little chat to you at all during the week?

Dennis:
[Sighs] What chat's that?

Norma:
About Ally Fraser and money.

Dennis:
Aye, aye. He mentioned it, so I put his mind at rest.

Norma:
Oh?

Dennis:
Hey, yer kna, Ally's tryin' to get us up to Spain for this next job.

Norma:
[Scoffs] By choice, is it?

Dennis:
[Sighs] Look, Norma, once and for all, I'm straight with Ally Fraser, right? By the time we're finished at the Manor and we complete this Spanish work, that's probably the end of our relationship.

Norma:
"Probably"?

Dennis:
Well, look, man. If he keeps comin' up with work for me an' the rest of the lads, we cannae keep turnin' it down, can wa? Mean, I cannae gan down the Job Centre and say "Oh, we've been offered some work, but we didn't fancy that. Have you got anythin'?"

Norma:
Dennis... Just look me straight in the eye and tell me you don't owe Ally Fraser money!

Dennis:
Bloody hell, Norma! What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?

Norma:
No, no, I just wanna know.

Dennis:
Well, it's none of your business, pet!

Norma:
Oh, isn'it? And yet it is my business when you want a place to stay or to bring yer kids for your weekend? Or a place for yer bloody mates to doss in? That's my business? Look, if you wanna help me, Dennis, you're gonna have to be straight with us.

Dennis:
I am straight with yer.

Norma:
Well, that's not what I'm hearing 'round the doors.

Dennis:
[Suddenly shouting] Well, if it's only bloody gossip that's gettin' on yer nerves, why don't yer bloody move, man?!

Norma:
[Sternly] Look, Dennis! You don't seem to understand, we are family! It doesn't matter how far you travel or how old you get, you're still my little brother, and I care about you!! [Quietly] How much d'you owe?

Dennis:
[Quietly, finally realising he should confess all] Six grand.

Norma:
[Shocked] What?!

Dennis:
£6,000.

Norma:
Dennis..?

Dennis:
Look, Norma, man, it's not as bad as all that, man. Half the country's in debt or livin' off credit. There's not much difference between Ally Fraser and Access cards!

Norma:
Except he's got the power to make you do what he wants!

Dennis:
Look, Norma, I'm only a brickie. I'm only buildin' a house for him, I'm... I'm not contracted killer or somethin'! I've told ya, once we've finished the Spanish work, I'll be in the clear. That's the deal, I promise. I'll be off the hook within three months.

Norma:
Honest?

Dennis:
Well, would I lie to me big sister, eh, knowin' the hiding I'd get when she'd found out?

Norma:
[Chuckles] Oh go on, I think I'll have that brandy!

Angela:
What were you and Auntie Norma rowing about last night?

Dennis:
I thought you were supposed to be asleep! Anyway, we weren't rowin', we were just talkin', y'know, business, like.

Angela:
Our Kevin had his ear to the floor, said you were shoutin' about money.

Dennis:
Nah, "shoutin' about money...?" [Before Dennis can continue, they stop as Dennis sees a flashily dressed woman approaching. It's Marjorie, Oz's estranged wife]

Marjorie:
[Waving as she approaches] Dennis Patterson?

Dennis:
Aww hell! [Turns away and bends down to Angela's shoe] I'll just put this buckle right on your shoe.

Angela:
What's up, dad? There's nothing wrong with me buckle.

Dennis:
Nah, it's all right, pet. It's just that lady over there, she happens to be the wife of one of the nutcases I work with. Remember Oz? I don't particularly want to talk to her, that's all.

Marjorie:
[As she gets closer] Yoo-hoo! [Dennis reluctantly gets up] Eee, I thought it was you!

Dennis:
Hello, Marjorie.

Marjorie:
[Turns to Angela] Oh, and this must be one of your bairns, is it?

Dennis:
Aye, this is Angela.

Majorie:
How's Vera?

Dennis:
Well, er... we've split up again, actually.

Marjorie:
Oh, pet... I'm sorry. E'en after you left some nice German lass...

Dennis:
[Interrupting to protect Angela] Aye, well, that's all in the past now, Marjorie, you know?

Marjorie:
Haven't heard from Oz, have yer?

Dennis:
No, not really. When did you last hear from him?

Marjorie:
Oh aye, he sent us a card from the Falklands - no stamp, of course! Aye, God knows where he is now.

Angela:
He came round...

Dennis:
[Interrupting, glancing at Angela] I did hear he's back in England, like.

Marjorie:
You've no idea where, have you?

Dennis:
Shouldn't you know more aboot that than me, Marjorie?

Marjorie:
I'd be the last one to hear, pet. No, anyway, if he does get in touch with you, will yer tell him to get in touch with me? I've got some good news for him.

Dennis:
Oh, that'll cheer him up... [Marjorie double takes, leading Dennis to cover his tracks] ...if I do... come across him, like. What's the good news?

Marjorie:
I'm divorcin' the sod!

Wayne:
'Ello, 'ello! Only three hours? I thought you said you weren't a speed freak!

Moxey:
Ah it's not bad, Wayne. Y'know, I mean you could've built a garage in that time, never mind repair one.

Dennis:
Well, I hope you don't expect to be paid for this afternoon.

Oz:
...Just pour us a cup o' tea, will ya?

Harry:
Come on then, blow-by-blow account!

Bomber:
The boy looks wrecked. She certainly taken it out of him.

Oz:
[Sighs] Unbelievable. It's the only word for it. Unbe- I mean if I told yer, yer wouldn't believe it, so...

Barry:
Well we won't know till you tell us, will we?

Oz:
Well, yer kna what I was saying in the bar the other night aboot, eh, aulder women?

Moxey:
Experience?

Oz:
Yea, experience an' all that beef... Dear me! This one... this one makes Simone Signoret look like Shirley Temple, that one!

Neville:
Doesn't mean nowt to me! I've never seen either of them.

Oz:
Well I'll try and put it another way.

Wayne:
You obviously did(!)

Oz:
Yer kna when footballers get to a certain age, they've gotta slow their game doon? Yer kna, but they seem to get to be better players because of experience, yer kna. Like Johnny Giles, Leeds and Éire. I feel like I've been playing with somebody like him after ninety minutes of soccer.

Moxey:
It's funny you should mention that about footballers, Oz. 'Cos the only older woman I ever had looked like Billy Bremner! [Everyone laughs]

Wayne:
Now I can get my beloved motor out, eh? Can I borrow your van, Den?

Dennis:
Aye, sure, yeah. Here y'are. [Gives Wayne the keys]

Wayne:
I'll, erm, probably need someone to drive it back.

Dennis:
Er, right. Oz!

Oz:
[Oz opens a bottle] Yeah, what?

Dennis:
Off you gan wi' Wayne, make sure he doesn't spend his finishing bonus on the way across.

Oz:
Why me, like?

Dennis:
Because we've spent two months tarting this place up! I don't want a lunatic like you in there pissed!

Oz:
Ah nah, I'm not gannin!

Dennis:
I'm still the gaffer, so get gan!

Oz:
[As he and Wayne get out of the van] I've telled him to get these brakes sorted! [They look inside the pound. Wayne's car is just behind the fence]

Wayne:
There. There, look. [The car is still dirty.] 800 quid and they ain't even bloody cleaned it.

Oz:
[Scoffs] They've probably been out joy-ridin' in it, man. Did yer check the clock before you give 'em it?

Wayne:
Y'know, I didn't think of that!

Oz:
I'll come in wi' yer, I'll tell 'em I'm yer legal adviser. If yer get any grief, I'll nut 'im.

Customs Officer:
Right, it shouldn't take long, Mr. Norris. You have the full amount with you, I presume?

Wayne:
Of course. [Throws the money down on the desk.] There it is. It's in pounds though, not Deutschmarks. Is that all right, sunbeam(?)

Customs Officer:
No need for any sarcasm, thank you, sir. [He starts to count the money]

Oz:
There's nae need to count it, man. It's all there.

Customs Officer:
I have to check it, sir... just in case you've given me too much.

Wayne:
Ere, listen, seeing as I've paid you up in full, I don't reckon you can tell me who shopped me, can you?

Customs Officer:
Certainly not, that's privileged information.

Wayne:
I thought it might be. [Oz looks around the office and sees a photo of a woman on the cabinet behind Wayne. His eyes widen - it's the mature woman from the Barley Mow! He clears his throat to attract Wayne's attention then nods towards the photo. Wayne turns and glances at the photo, then turns back to the customs inspector] Just looking at the photograph. Lovely lady. Who is it?

Customs Officer:
That happens to be my wife, sir. [Oz turns away]

Wayne:
Very attractive, wouldn't you say so, Oz?

Oz:
[Turns back] What? Oh, yes, uh-huh... Not my cup o' tea, like, but... tidy bit o' tackle.

Customs Officer:
[Gets up] Right. I'll get you a receipt, Mr. Norris. Won't take a minute. [He leaves the office, glancing at a sheepish Oz as he does.]

Wayne:
[As soon as the customs officer is out of earshot] Well, I declare, as they say in the trade! [Laughs as they gather by the photo]

Oz:
Can yer believe it? It's ironic, really isn'it, when yer think aboot it. If he hadn't've nabbed your car, I wouldn't've knobbed his wife!

Wayne:
Poetic justice, that's what I call it. 'Ere, talking of justice, you keep dog eye, because I want to check out who shopped me. [Oz goes on lookout while Wayne opens a foolscap wallet. He goes through the documents.]

Oz:
Owt there?

Wayne:
Hold on... [He finds the relevant document] Hold it, here we go... "Dear Sir, acting on information received from a Mr. Arthur Pringle of the Barley Mow Inn..."

Oz:
[Scoffs] Pringle... Might've knaan it'd be that old bastard!

Wayne:
Hello? Arthur? Yes, this is Wayne Winston Norris with your early morning call. [They all laugh]

Pringle:
Is this your idea of a joke, you cretin?

Wayne:
No, no, no, I'm not joking 'cos I know you ain't got a sense of humour. See, look, why we're ringing is to say bye-bye, 'cos we're off elsewhere, y'see, and to tell you about the little going away present we've left ya. Now look, if you care to look outside your front door... [Looks at Neville, who tries to stifle his laughter. Pringle opens his front door... to discover it's been bricked up!]

The Lads:
[Singing] Wall meet again, don't know where, don't know when, but I know wall meet again some sunny day! [On the outside the words "Wall Meet Again... Baconballs!" are written on the wall]

Wayne:
Ta-ta, Arthur! [The lads jeer and laugh]

Brenda:
No, Neville. Not here.

Neville:
What?

Brenda:
It's not the right place.

Neville:
In our bed? In our house? At night? Where would you rather do it, at the squash club?

Brenda:
Wayne's here.

Neville:
Well, what's that gotta do with Wayne?

Brenda:
I'm not doin' it with him here in the house.

Neville:
Why not?

Brenda:
Because he'll hear wor.

Neville:
He'll not hear us.

Brenda:
We can hear him gargling so he'll certainly hear us... well, he can hear wor.

Neville:
If you'd mentioned this last night, I certainly wouldn't have asked him to stay.

Brenda:
You should have thought it through! Oh, Neville, it's just too inhibitin'.

Neville:
You never used to say that before we were married, when I used to come round your parents' place.

Brenda:
That was different. My parents went to bed very early. They were sound sleepers, and you used to have Match of the Day on at full volume. And you used to watch it!

Neville:
Wayne'll not be asleep, man. That Sony Walkman never leaves his ears. I mean how's he ganna hear us with Twisted Sister blastin' into his brain cells?

Brenda:
He might.

Neville:
He'll not, man. It's not like we're noisy, Bren. It's not as if you're a screamer.

Brenda:
What?!

Neville:
...Well, it's not like you're one of them frenzied females you hear about, yer kna, that scream and shout and bark.

Brenda:
[Loudly] Bark?! D'yer want us to bark?!

Neville:
Sssh, man, Brenda! Wayne'll hear us!

Wayne:
...No. I can't give you a number, I'm in the north of England, aren't I? ...Look, if this Spanish job comes up, I'll be away, so I just thought maybe we should get together and... [Fraught] Alright, if you can't, you can't, okay? Give me love to your folks(!) [Puts the phone down and follows Brenda into the kitchen.]

Brenda:
Hello, Wayne. Did Neville get you some lunch?

Wayne:
Yeah, shared some cottage pie with Debbie.

Brenda:
Where is Neville? [Fills a kettle]

Wayne:
Taken her down the park. She's a lovely kid, eh?

Brenda:
Yeah. Fancy some tea?

Wayne:
If you're making some. Here, look. [Tosses some money onto the worktop.] I used the phone, that should cover it.

Brenda:
I'm sure that's too much, Wayne.

Wayne:
Well, I did rabbit on a bit, and it was to Germany.

Brenda:
Phoning your wife, are ya? Neville said she was in Germany. She visiting her family?

Wayne:
Yeah...

Brenda:
Fancy some toast? I'm starving.

Wayne:
[Sits at the kitchen table] Well actually, Christa isn't visiting her parents... she's gone back there. She's pregnant.

Brenda:
That's wonderful!

Wayne:
No it ain't. She's not sure whether she wants to have it, but, she is sure she don't wanna stay with me. [Brenda comes to the kitchen table and sits down.] I blew it, Brenda. See... I really wanted to be married to her, you know, but... I guess I'm just too immature to be married.

Brenda:
Other women?

Wayne:
Yeah. Look, the point of loving someone is to prove it to 'em, right? Which means giving all the rest of the birds the elbow, not responding to every bit of skirt that passes you in the street, not being tempted by and bird that flashes you in the boozer, you know. I mean... I wanted it both ways, and... that's out of order, isn't it?

Brenda:
I'm afraid it is, Wayne.

Wayne:
'Ere, look, don't tell Neville about this, eh? I don't want the lads to find out. You're the only woman I've told about this apart from Hazel.

Brenda:
Is Hazel one of the other women?

Wayne:
No. No, Hazel, Barry's fiancée Hazel.

Brenda:
Oh, Hazel! Yes, sorry.

Wayne:
[Laughs.] It's funny, innit? I find it so much easier talking to birds about this than fellas. Suppose that's the old ego, eh?

Brenda:
You know, Wayne, if you tell Christa what you told me and Hazel, well that might make all the difference in the world.

Wayne:
Nah, it wouldn't. Not unless I changed, and I can't see that happening, love. I mean, basically I want every woman there is in the world. Present company excluded, of course!

Brenda:
[Not knowing whether to be complimented or insulted] Oh, thanks very much!

Wayne:
Oh, no, no! Not that I don't find you attractive... No, I mean, I wouldn't do it with a mate's bird, nah... Not that I wouldn't want to... 'Cos, if you know what I mean with me mate... and you're very... so we could... [Brenda chuckles to herself as Wayne gets more flustered. The toast pops.]

Brenda:
[Getting up to see to the toast] I think I understand, Wayne! It's not uncommon in men of your age. You seem to feel... you need to prove that your sexual magnetism still works.

Wayne:
Yeah, yeah, I suppose that's it then, eh?

Brenda:
Jam or Marmite?

Oz:
[Sitting with his back to the stripper] Well... I'm sorry I'm not yer genial host tonight, lads. I mean, any other time I'd have been happy to... drag ya roond the flesh pots of the north east, yer kna, but... Oh, it's just this thing with me kid, I mean, it's weighin' heavy on us.

Wayne:
[Not taking his eyes off the stripper, as is Moxey] I'm sure it does, son.

Oz:
I mean, I kna what yer think. I kna what everybody thinks for that matter. You think that I'm irresponsible. A bit of a heid-the-baw. A bit of a...

Moxey:
Lunatic?

Oz:
Yeah, oh all right, Moxey! All right! Yer not always rowin' with all yer oars in the water yersel', yer kna!

Moxey:
No. Fair enough. Sorry, Oz.

Oz:
But I'm still 'is father, isn't I? He's still me kid. [Turns around for a second to the stripper, then turns back again.] You have to put yersel' in my place. Wayne, man! [Wayne finally turns to Oz] Put yersel' in my place, man, with this business with the kid, man. Because you're married, aren't you, eh? If your bird pissed off and left yer, how would that feel, eh, if she went back to Germany?

Wayne:
Who's been talking to you, then?

Oz:
[Confused] Naebody, man, I'm talkin hypothetically.

Wayne:
Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Oz:
Well, I mean, can yer imagine if she had a sprog, eh, and she dragged him back to Düsseldorf? You'd never see it again. Can you imagine how that would feel?

Wayne:
[Quietly] Yeah, well, I can, as it happens...

Dennis:
Yer do things on the spur of the moment, Oz, without ever thinking them through. I mean, where were you gonna take the lad, eh?

Oz:
Well I wasn't gonna hang on to him, man, I only wanted twenty four hours with him, to find out how he feels aboot this trip abroad, man. Find oot how he felt about this Sandro gadgy. And she wouldn't let us anywhere near the bairn, so I had to dae what I did, didn't I?

Bomber:
Well she'll be even less disposed to let you see him now.

Barry:
Ah, so you met the Italian in question, did you?

Oz:
Aye, yes, we exchanged one or two words, yes.

Brenda:
What sort of person did he seem then, Oz?

Oz:
Well, he seemed perfectly affable and pleasant and polite, but I mean ye cannae gan on that, can yer? He's a waiter, he's trained to be.

Wayne:
Oh come off it, Oz. You said in the car that he was a nice enough sort of bloke.

Oz:
Aye, but them were first impressions, weren't they? He's gotta be a bit micey if he wants to lob up with my Marjorie!

Brenda:
[Holding a couple of mugs] Shall I do another pot? [Everyone murmurs in agreement]

Neville:
I'll give you a hand.

Brenda:
No, I'll do it, pet. [Exits into the kitchen]

Dennis:
So, when do they leave, then?

Oz:
Eh? Er... Next week.

Barry:
If you ask me... just in my opinion, like... I think living in Italy might benefit the lad. I mean, he'd had the climate, when he comes back he'll be bilingual, a wonderful advantage. I only spent one night in this area and I'll tell you it was a bleeding terrifying experience!

Dennis:
Yer can't judge a place on one night, man!

Oz:
[Overlapping with Dennis] What's wrong with this place? We've all seen Wolverhampton, it's not exactly Beverly Hills, is it?

Bomber:
Here we are. [Places the mugs into the sink.]

Brenda:
Ah, you didn't need to do that. I'd have seen to it.

Bomber:
That's all right. Just glad to get out of the smoke. [Picks up a tea towel and starts drying up]

Brenda:
Oh, you've not left your wife, have you, and run off with a sailor?

Bomber:
[Smiles] If you do, you'll be the first to know.

Brenda:
Honestly, it's been like Heartbreak Hotel here this week, I'm thinking of leaving me job at the hospital and taking up marriage guidance!

Bomber:
Well, we'll be off in a couple of days and you can get some peace and quiet.

Neville:
[Enters the kitchen] Brenda?

Brenda:
The kettle's not ready yet, pet.

Neville:
No, could you come and have a word with the lads, please? [Brenda takes off her gloves and goes into the living room. Bomber takes over doing the dishes.]

Dennis:
Brenda, er... We're all agreee we think Oz has got a case here. I mean, we think that he should see his young lad before he's whisked off to a foreign country.

Brenda:
Oh, I quite agree, Dennis.

Dennis:
The main problem is the situation with Marjorie is... delicate, to say the least. I mean she has to understand that Oz seeing his son won't be a threat to her. I mean, that's only right and proper.

Brenda:
Uh-huh...

Dennis:
So, er, we thought the best way to convince her would be, erm... if you had a word with her.

Wayne:
Oh hello, Bren.

Brenda:
Hello, Wayne. Are you all on your own?

Wayne:
Yeah. Lads have gone down the pub. Said I'd babysit.

Brenda:
That's nice of you.

Wayne:
I didn't fancy it. And, er... I wanted to speak to Christa, you know, sort of privately, like. Here. [Reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money and puts it on the coffee table.]

Brenda:
I'm sure that's too much, Wayne. It's cheap rate after all.

Wayne:
Yeah, but there was, er... quite a lot of heavy dialogue tonight.

Brenda:
Oh dear... Look, there's some Cointreau on that sideboard over there. Why don't you pour wor both one, eh? [He does so.] So, she come to a decision, yet?

Wayne:
Yep. She's gonna have the baby.

Brenda:
Oh, that's a relief. I am glad.

Wayne:
But... she ain't gonna have me back. [Brings the drinks over] So, the good news is I'm gonna have a kid by the woman I love. And the bad news is I'll probably never get to see it.

Brenda:
It's ironic, isn't it? You and Oz have similar problems.

Wayne:
How'd you get on with Marjorie?

Brenda:
Well, she's agreed to let him see the boy. Took two bottles of Chianti, though!

Wayne:
You're a marvel you are, Brenda. Here, you don't fancy popping over to Dusseldorf, do ya? Doing the business on Christa, eh?

Oz:
Aye. This is where your grandda used to work.

Rod:
Here?

Oz:
Well, not here exactly. Up the river. Wallsend slipway.

Rod:
Never knew me grandda.

Oz:
No, nah. He was a riveter. Hard man. Proud man. But, the job killed him in the end. That's why you never got to meet him. [Opens a bar of chocolate and gives some to Rod.] Aye, it's funny... he built ships what went all over the world, and yet he never left Tyneside. I think that's how I become a bit of a wanderer, yer kna, got a bit of a gypo in us. 'Cos I said to meself when I was your age, I said, "That's never ganna happen to me." Mind, not that I'm afraid of hard graft or nowt like that. It's just... well... yer kna, there's a great big world out there.

Rod:
Aye, I kna, dad.

Oz:
Well, that's... that's how come I'm pleased about yer gannin to Italy, yer kna. Now that I kna how you're feeling aboot it, 'cos I mean it's... it's gotta do you good, hann'it, really? I mean, you'll come back and be able to... parlez amour Italiano, as they say. Give yer an idea what the world's about. And it has to improve yer ball control, doesn't it? Yeah?

Rod:
[Laughs for a second.] My teacher says I'm very fortunate.

Oz:
Aye, well, your teacher's right for once.

Rod:
I'll miss me friends though.

Oz:
Ey, you'll make new ones, man. Anyway, you'll be back, won't yer? I mean... [chuckles] ...you couldn't leave this for long, yeah?

Oz:
Now, I don't wanna wait six months for a postcard, allreet? [The bus stops.] Well, er, have a great time. [Rod boards the bus.] But here, listen - you might be a man of the world now, but never forget your roots, son. Right? You'll always be a Geordie no matter where you go. 'Cos this is the place what shaped yer, made yer what y'are. Alright?

Rod:
Ciao, dad. [Pays the driver, the door closes and the bus starts to drive off.]

Oz:
Auf wiedersehen, son.

Fraser:
[Playing a buzz wire game] Look, I'm sorry, Dennis, but due to the Spanish immigration laws, there is just no way at the moment that I can take a bunch of foreign workers down there.

Dennis:
Now wait a minute, Ally, you put your brief on this three weeks ago. He should have told you all that then, man.

Fraser:
And he did, Dennis. Couple of days later, I had it all fixed up. I arranged backhanders with a couple of key Pedros down there, but at the last minute, they tried to brace me and cop me for a wee bit extra, and to my mind, it's just a wee bitty too much, so I told them to stuff it.

Dennis:
[Looks out of the window to the rest of the lads, who are waiting with all their luggage outside] Look, I've got a bunch of lunatics down there. They're all fired up, they packed their bags, they've sorted things out with their families, and if you don't come through this time...

Fraser:
Just take them over tomorrow night, my house, my hospitality. That'll soften them up for ya. By that time I should have sorted something out.

Dennis:
I hope so, for your sake! [Starts to leave] What time should I bring them?

Fraser:
Er... make it about ten. [His loop touches the wire towards the end, making a high-pitched buzz] I mean, feed them first!

Barry:
Want that last dumpling?

Wayne:
Be my guest, son.

Barry:
Thanks. [Takes the dumpling and eats it] Lovely, ain't they? Not too greasy.

Wayne:
And this spicy beef is well tasty, Barry. You ordered well, son.

Barry:
Thank you, Wayne. I'm very in to Oriental cuisine you see, Wayne. Just outside Wolverhampton, there is the most wonderful place - Shanghai Rendezvous it's called. Oh, it's quite bostin', mate. It's a great favourite of Hazel's, and mine, actually. But that is Szechuan cuisine, bit spicier than Cantonese, you see... [points to his plate with his chopsticks] Mind you, I don't suppose Szechuan has reached up here yet, has it?

Wayne:
Wolverhampton one - Newcastle nil. [They laugh.]

Barry:
Aww, it's a really good idea this, Wayne, because we won't be getting much Chinese grub out in España, will we?

Wayne:
No... if we ever get there, mate, eh?

Barry:
Plenty of English food, mind, though. When Hazel and me went, it was bloody shepherd's pie and fish and chips, aye.

Wayne:
Right... Hey, how are things going with you and your Hazel?

Barry:
Well... it's a bit hard to tell from this distance, so... Neville said why don't I bring her out, like? You know. Might make all the difference, he said.

Wayne:
Watch out, watch out. Right? You know what Neville's doing? Neville's promised Brenda a free trip, right. So he's lobbying all the lads to get their old ladies out there so he don't feel like the odd man out.

Barry:
Hmmm... I'm thinking about it, though... A change of scene might do the trick with Haze.

Wayne:
Yeah. Not with them ludicrous Bermudas you bought, mate.

Barry:
Ahh, they'll look nice when me legs are brown.

Wayne:
[Shouts out to a waiter] Er, two more lagers. Two more lagers, please, squire.

Barry:
'Ere, why don't you bring Christa out? You've not seen much of her lately, have you?

Wayne:
She's, er... she's in Germany, ain't she?

Barry:
Well, it don't stop her flying out, does it?

Wayne:
She wouldn't like it.

Barry:
Why not, mate? I mean, I can imagine the wives not wanting to join us in Dusseldorf when we were working out there, but I mean Spain's a different kettle of fish, innit? Oh, and if Hazel were there with other couples, like... like you and Christa, and Neville and Brenda, she might see things in a different light. What d'you think, Wayne?

Wayne:
Look. Stop asking me what I think, will you, Barry? Ever since I've known you, you've asked my advice on everything about love, sex and marriage.

Barry:
Well... it's hardly surprising, is it? I mean, I don't profess to be an expert in that department. You've probably forgotten more about women than I've got to learn!

Wayne:
Yeah, well I know nothing about wives, do I? Otherwise mine wouldn't have left me.

Barry:
[Looks up, not expecting that news.] When did this happen, then?

Wayne:
Ages ago.

Barry:
And you never told no-one?

Wayne:
I told your Hazel.

Barry:
Did you? She never let on.

Wayne:
That's why I told her, Barry. I told Brenda as well a couple of nights ago. I didn't wanna tell the lads, 'cos... I dunno. [Shrugs] Probably me image. I just... thought, "What's the point?" But you can do me a favour - tell the lads, and tell 'em I don't wanna talk about it, all right?

Barry:
[Holds his free hand up] Right, right. [Eats a prawn ball] 'Ere, do you think it was something to do with your philandering..?

Wayne:
Barry, did you hear me? It's the end of the conversation. Closed book. 'Ere, you're the prince of trivia, you think of something to talk about!

Barry:
[Takes a few seconds to think. Then...] D'you want that last prawn ball?

Fraser:
Very well, now that we're all gathered, I'd like just to say a few words. [Stares at Wayne]

Vicky:
[To Christine, Dennis's new girlfriend] Why don't I show you around the house, pet?

Christine:
All right. [They leave the room.]

Fraser:
[Stands on a stool to address the lads] Right. You lads have been farted around a bit, but, er, these things happen. Unexpected contingencies. However, I'm very, very pleased to say that everything has now been sorted out, and you fly out there on Saturday. [The lads murmur.]

Dennis:
Is that from here or from Heathrow?

Fraser:
Er, that is from here, Dennis. Saturday, 13:45.

Dennis:
...They don't do scheduled flights from here on Saturday.

Fraser:
Ah, well it's not a scheduled flight as such, Dennis. It's more what you might say our own luxury personal charter.

Oz:
[Excited] What? Wor own plane? Whoa, I'm up for that, eh! The Bricklayers' Special!

Fraser:
[Chuckles] I havenae gone quite that far, Oz. No, no, it's a pal of mine's got a wee company, he's taking a tour down there, and he very, very happily happens to have some spare seats.

Oz:
Oh, Christ! Economy measures already? I might have known.

Fraser:
No, no, no, there's more to it than that, if you'll just bear me out, Oz. Now officially, you lads are not going out there to work, because as you know, I could not come across with the work permits, and I want you out there because I trust the British working man.

Wayne:
Very patriotic.

Fraser:
I think if one is in a position to help the working man at the present moment in time, then one should do it. I'm also not too keen on my Spanish workers because when I'm out there it's mañana, mañana, and when I'm not out there it's siesta, siesta. [They all chuckle]

Barry:
Yes, they, er, they do tend to indolence, don't they, the average Spaniard? Mind you, now that they've joined the European Community, you might find it's a marked difference in their... [Notices Fraser glaring at him. Quieter] ...in their attitude... [He shuts up.]

Fraser:
All I'm saying, Barry, is that officially we are going there as holiday-makers, and arriving in a chartered flight will help to reinforce that impression. Now do you's get my drift?

Oz:
Oh aye, aye. So it's buckets and spades and waterwings is the order of the day, is it?

Fraser:
That's right, and you turn up for work in your swimming cossie, eh? [Laughs] You'll be given a few pesetas for your walking around money, and your official money will be paid as per usual, as per Dennis, as per back here.

Dennis:
Are we still staying at the Hotel Miramar?

Fraser:
Ah, well, unhappily, Dennis, they were unable to take you. [The lads voice their disgust]

Dennis:
The lads are fed up with barrack-room conditions, right? In Derbyshire were livin' like derelicts, man!

Fraser:
That has all been taken care of, Dennis. You will be staying in the same hotel as the rest of the holiday-makers, a very, very charming spot, and only a stone's throw from the beach.

Oz:
Oh, aye? Well the Spaniards is famous for how far they can hoy a stone, aren't they, eh?

Fraser:
And they're also famous for how bad they lay a brick, and that is why we are setting off to sunnier climes. So, until then, my dear friends, hasta la vista and vayas con Dios, mis amigos! Okay, who's for a game of pool?

Oz:
Oh, I'm up for that, like!

Dennis:
Aye, I'll have a game!

Bomber:
[To Fraser] Shall we take 'em on, Mr. Fraser?

Fraser:
Oh. Ally, Bomber. Call me Alistair.

Wayne:
Nev, you and me take the winners on.

Neville:
Hang on a minute, Wayne. [Goes to speak to Bomber.] Here, Bomb.

Bomber:
Yeah?

Neville:
Listen, if it's a charter flight, it'll not be that expensive, will it? We could probably afford to take the wives. D'you fancy taking yours?

Bomber:
I don't know, Neville. She's got her hands tied looking after all our kids. Besides, Bomber rather fancies getting amongst those señoritas!

Barry:
Ahh, good evening, my friend. [Neville sits down] Can I get you a drink, mon amigo?

Neville:
Aye. Anything.

Barry:
It's all right, isn'it? Right! [Pours a drink out of cocktail shaker] Y'know, I could grow accustomed to evenings like this, Neville. Hazel and I have often talked about putting in a bar in our room downstairs. There's room, remember, right by the bay. I mean, nothing as grand as this, of course, just something that's big enough for me to get behind. [Hands the drink to Neville] Hang on... [Adds a decoration]

Neville:
Listen, have you had a word with Hazel yet about gannin to Spain?

Barry:
Yes. Yes, I have, actually. She seems quite keen. But, er... she's in a position of great responsibility, Nev. I mean, she can't just drop everything in her job like that and come straight out, you know.

Neville:
No... but it's still a possibility, is it?

Barry:
Yeah, you know... I think so, yeah. But I thought I'd best get out there meself and see the lie of the land, y'know.

Neville:
[Turns to Wayne, who's stood by the hi-fi checking out Fraser's record collection] What about you, Wayne?

Wayne:
[Turns around] What about Wayne, what?

Neville:
Any chance of you askin' Christa out to Spain?

Wayne:
[Approaching Barry at the bar] Haven't you told him yet?

Barry:
No, I haven't, actually. I haven't had time, have I? Haven't seen sight or sound of Nev since our last conflab.

Neville:
What's this?

Wayne:
Well, now's your chance, eh? [Leaves them to it.]

Barry:
Neville, this may come as a bit of a shock to you, mate...

Neville:
Let's face it, he's had it comin' to him, hasn'he?

Barry:
[Sighs, as he pours some alcohol into the cocktail shaker] Yeah. I think he knows that, though.

Neville:
He never leaves it alone, does he? He must've slept with half of Düsseldorf before he met Christa!

Barry:
Yeah, but, I think the experience may have changed him, actually, Nev. I mean, added to the fact that he's been 'round people like you and me. It's bound to have a stabilising influence, innit?

Neville:
I don't think I've got any influence on Wayne. I think he thinks I'm dull.

Barry:
[Having finished pouring more alcohol into the shaker] No! "Mature" would be my word for it, actually, Nev. [Barry puts the lid on the shaker and starts shaking it. He opens it, causing the cocktail to spill on his tie and Neville's shirt.]

Wayne:
Hello. Goin' out, are we?

Vicky:
Yeah, I'm goin' down to Cannibal's. It's this club that Ally owns.

Wayne:
Yeah, yeah. That's right. We were there last night.

Vicky:
D'yer wanna come down tonight? I could leave your name at the door.

Wayne:
D'you mean me, or all of us?

Vicky:
Well... why, like? D'you always do everythin' as a group?

Wayne:
Oh, no, no. I do loads of things on me own.

Vicky:
Oh, aye?

Wayne:
Mind you, it might be a bit off tonight, eh, 'cos I am Ally's guest, ain't I?

Vicky:
Oh, well. Suit yerself.

Wayne:
Maybe we can leave it 'til Spain, eh?

Vicky:
Er... leave what?

Wayne:
A bit of dancing, or something.

Vicky:
Well, we'll have to see about that, won't we? [She smiles as she closes the window.]

Wayne:
Yeah.

Fraser:
[In quiet but warning tones] That's mine.

Wayne:
Lovely motor, squire.

Fraser:
I didn't mean the car.

Dennis:
Here you go, lads. [The others grab their drinks from the tray] After all the delays, it looks like we're off to Spain tomorrow, so let's have a monumental piss-up.

Oz:
Oi, oi, hang on. Should we not wait 'til the women get here, eh? I mean, Brenda'll be on her way doon, will she?

Neville:
Look, I hope you're not going to make her like a misery out there, Oz!

Oz:
Ohh, man, I'm harsh.

Dennis:
I tell yer what, she'll not be on her own, because I'm bringing Christine with me.

Neville:
Are yer?

Bomber:
You sly old bugger, Patterson.

Neville:
Fantastic!

Barry:
That's great, man. I'll get Hazel straight down now.

Oz:
Oh, eh. Top of the bill, that. Champion. If this new charva drags his tart along, we'll be able to start a formation dance team!

Dennis:
Look, Oz, I promise you tonight is an all-male evening, right, of alcoholic abuse.

Barry:
If we're having an evening of celebration and depravity, we could've chosen better than this manky place.

Dennis:
Alreet, we're only startin' off here, man, aren't wa? We're meetin' this other lad, then we're ganna meet Wayne at the disco.

Barry:
Aye, but not if Oz and Bomber get on the bloody snooker table, we won't. We'll be here 'till closing time!

Bomber:
No fair. Bomber wants to go dancing.

Dennis:
Aye, well we're not gannin to Cannibal's.

Bomber:
That's fine by me. I hate them small, frenzied discos. What happened to the palais? The big band? The sound of saxophones echoing through the rafters.

Barry:
I once took tap dancing lessons, y'know.

Neville:
You did?

Oz:
Why?

Barry:
What do you mean, why?

Oz:
Well... why? Why? Why?

Barry:
Oh... seeing all those wonderful films with Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Donald O'Connor, wonderful dancers, people like that. [Oz chuckles] I wanted to emulate them. Anyway, me auntie was the teacher so I got a rebate on the lessons.

Neville:
Come on, then. Do your bit.

Dennis:
Howay!

Oz:
Howay! Let's see you dance, Fred(!)

Barry:
No, I haven't got the right sort of shoes.

Neville:
Howay, on the floor! [Points to the floor near the bar]

Barry:
No, it's the wrong sort of floor.

Dennis:
Look, just do one little bit. You'll not have to buy a drink all night!

Neville:
Howay, that's fair enough.

Oz:
[Nudging Barry] Go on, Fred(!)

Neville:
Come on, on the stage!

Barry:
[Getting up. Neville moves and sits in Barry's spot] I think I can still remember one little routine.

Oz:
Hold on, I've got a better idea. [Gets up] Come over here by the dartboard, y'see, then we can put the spotlight on you and you can do yer bit. [Drags Barry to the dartboard and alters the position of the light from the dartboard to towards Barry]

Barry:
It's been a long time, y'know.

Bomber:
We'll bear that in mind, Barry.

Oz:
Right. [Turns the light on] Off yer gan. [Heads back to his seat.]

Barry:
[Nervously] Right. Er... You've gotta remember that this is the to the tune of Keep Young and Beautiful, right? [Mutters] Feet, don't you fail me now. And... [Starts tapping and singing] Keep young and beautiful / It's your duty to be beautiful / Keep young and beautiful / If you want to be loved. [Spins round while the others watch, barely able to keep themselves from laughing] Keep young and beautiful... It's coming back! [Continues singing] It's your duty to be beautiful... [Stops for a moment as he stumbles before continuing] It's coming back! [Continuing singing] ...If you want to be loved. / Keep young and... if you want to be...

The Lads:
[Joining in singing] If you want to be, if you want to be loved! [Barry ends on a pose, the other lads cheer before holding up beermats like they were scorecards]

Dennis:
2.0, 2.5, 1.5, 2.0, and the trophy won't be goin' to Wolverhampton this year! [They laugh as they throw beermats at Barry as he returns to the table.]

Neville:
[Laughing, to Barry] And it's your round!

Oz:
[Noticing him] Oh, look what's just crawled up against the bar.

Bomber:
Who's that? [Turns around]

Oz:
See 'im? That charva what cause all the bother at the disco the other night.

Neville:
What's this, like?

Bomber:
You reckon he's come lookin' for us, Oz?

Oz:
Ohh, suits me!

Dennis:
Ey, look, knock it on the head, right? We're all on a plane tomorrow, we don't want any bother.

Neville:
Listen, will somebody tell me what's gannin on? [The man approaches the table]

Oz:
[Standing up] What do you want? Eh? Have yer come lookin' for a showdoon? I'll gi' yer ten oot o' ten for bottle, son!

Martin:
I don't want any trouble. Anyway, I'm not lookin' for ye.

Oz:
Are yer not? Well, I suggest you piss off and find another watering hole, 'cos after a few more of them... [Picks up a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale] ...I might just be tempted to pull the front end of yer face off!

Barry:
Why do yer have to be so belligerent, Oz?

Oz:
[To Barry] Look, man, if it wasn't for 'im, Moxey'd still be gannin to Spain!

Martin:
[Interrupting] I'm not lookin' for any trouble, eh? I'm lookin' for a bloke called Dennis Patterson.

Dennis:
[Now looking worried] That's me. Who are you?

Martin:
Martin Cooper. Mr. Fraser said you might be one short for that Spanish job.

Oz:
[Laughs loudly and derisively] He's not comin'!

Dennis:
[Getting up] It's alreet, I'll handle it.

Oz:
If he gans, I'll...

Dennis:
[To Oz] Shut up and sit down!

Oz:
Well he's not...

Dennis:
I'll handle it!

Oz:
Well he's not...

Dennis:
Shut up! [Oz finally takes the hint and sits down. Dennis approaches Martin] Look, if you've had some bother with these two lads, this isn't ganna work out now, is it?

Martin:
Why not?

Dennis:
Why not?! Because we're supposed to be a team, man! That's why not.

Martin:
I haven't got a problem. If they've got a problem, that's their problem, mate. I need that job, eh? I'll do me share. See yer at the airport. [Leaves the bar, glaring at the lads as he does. Dennis returns to the table, sighs, and reaches for his pint]

Barry:
Nothing ever seems to go smoothly for us lot, does it?

Barry:
The food doesn't seem so good tonight, does it, Wayne?

Wayne:
There's no difference in the food, son. It's the mood that's down the crapper.

Oz:
Well, it's got to be said... [Burps] ...this latest development with this Martin gadgy, I mean it's took the shine off the trip to Spain to everybody, hann'it?

Neville:
Of all the blokes in Newcastle, you had to pick on him.

Oz:
What?!

Dennis:
He picks on a lot of people, Nev. So the odds aren't that outlandish!

Oz:
Hold on a minute, hang on, it wasn't me who started that barney, it was that Martin gadgy, man, wann' it?

Wayne:
Hey, hey, if you remember, the incident occured because you tried to get into his old lady's knickers.

Oz:
Oh, hey, hold on! I don't think you're one to point the finger aboot that, do you, eh? We've been dropped in the clarts plenty of times by your rampant member, haven't we?

Wayne:
They never forget, do they?

Bomber:
C'mon, lads. Fair's fair. That Martin's a born headbanger. And I can't say I fancy working alongside him.

Neville:
Hey, Moxey! Where've you been?

Moxey:
I called 'round your house, Den, and er, your sister said you were all in here.

Oz:
[Calls down the table] Give him a chair, somebody.

Dennis:
Sit down, son. Sit down.

Moxey:
Before I do, though, there's just a couple of things I'd like to say, y'know. Er, I've got me passport sorted out, y'know, so I can go to Spain. There's no problems there.

Oz:
[Sets a chair at the head of the table for Moxey] Fantastic!

Moxey:
But I know I've caused you lot a lot of aggravation, y'know, with all this duckin' and divin' an' that, so, er, well if you don't want us to go, y'know, I'll understand, and there'll be no hard feelin's.

Oz:
Naah!

Dennis:
Get this man a drink! He's the guest of honour.

Oz:
Guest of honour? He's the man of the year as far as I'm concerned! [Shouts to a waiter] Another one here!

Moxey:
Why? What have I done?

Wayne:
You've turned up, sunbeam, that's what you've done.

Barry:
Somebody better tell that Martin fella to forget it.

Dennis:
I will, I will, aye.

Neville:
The Magnificent Seven rides again! Yahey!

Bomber:
You came in the nick of time, my son.

Moxey:
I'm made up! You lot don't exactly owe me any favours.

Dennis:
It's you that's doing us a favour, man. [Stands up, glass in hand] A toast, to Moxey! [They all raise their glasses]

Neville:
It's great to have you back! [Moxey smiles]

Dennis:
...Or is it Brendan?

Moxey:
...It's Francis Fogarty.

Oz:
...It's what?

Moxey:
Francis Fogarty.

Oz:
Francis Fogarty? [Laughs] Where did you get Francis Fogarty from?

Moxey:
Well it wasn't my idea, y'know. If it was up to me, I'd like to be called Derek. But no Derek died in Kilburn on Tuesday.

Russell:
Mr. Patterson?

Dennis:
Yeah?

Russell:
Party of ten for Swallow Tours. Are you all here? Let me have your tickets and passports, and we'll get you checked through.

Christine:
Want a Playboy for your Neville?

Brenda:
I'm not getting that, it's disgusting!

Christine:
[Laughs] Cosmo? Ooh, I'll have that after you.

Brenda:
Listen, pass us down the Nursing News. There's a really good article about... [The rest of their conversation is drowned out by the airport tannoy, and they pick magazines.]

Airport Announcer:
Passengers for Flight 213 to Málaga to Gateway 2, please.

Christine:
That's us!

Wayne:
[To Debbie] I think it's very noble of your dad to bring you and your mum along, you know? 'Cos it'll keep him out of mischief! Listen, d'you know why? Because we're going to be sampling all that pulchritude down there. [Laughs.]

Neville:
There'll not be much of that, man. The tourist season's well finished.

Oz:
There'll be enough, divvn't you worry. Anyway, with a bit of luck, we'll have sorted summat out before we land.

Wayne:
'Ere! Are you trying to tell me, right, that on this charter tour, there ain't gonna be a surplus of salesgirls, secretaries, hairdressers, the lot, eh? I tell you, we'll be well locked off before we've even landed, son!

Russell:
[At the check-in line] Check-in over here, Mr. Patterson. [The group join the check-in line. In front of them is a large group of pensioners.]

Wayne:
Hold on, what's all this lot, then?

Russell:
It's the Spennymoor & District Senior Citizens Society. They go every year. You were lucky to get those seats! [Wayne's face falls.]

Neville:
I wouldn't waste any time, Wayne. I'd steam in now! [Cockney accent] Get it all locked off, son! [Laughs.]

Oz:
What was it Fraser said aboot us coming doon here? He was sendin' a team doon to help the British unemployed. Ho, ho, what a lot of bollocks! [Takes a swig of a bottle of beer.] It's obvious we're here 'cos there's not a building worker available from Malaga to Gib!

Bomber:
I never saw so much building in all my life!

Neville:
It's a brickie's paradise!

Brenda:
Mind, I think it's ruined the view.

Neville:
Aye, but think of all the lads they're employing, man. They must all be millionaires.

Moxey:
Y'know, I had a totally false impression of this place. I thought it was all, y'know, yachts, and playboys with Porsches. I've seen more bloody cranes than sports cars!

Barry:
Yeah, y'see, leisure is the new growth industry of the eighties.

Neville:
Not back home, it's not.

Barry:
We ain't got the climate, have we, Nev? Look, look. [Points to a giant water slide] When would you ever see a bloody water chute in Wolverhampton High Street?

Moxey:
Shall we get a cab to Marbella, check that out?

Oz:
Nah, I just wanna get to me pit. [Burps.] Christ, I've had more excitement in Berwick on a wet Sunday afternoon.

Wayne:
Yeah, let's put the lid on this one, eh?

Barry:
Mind you... it is Tuesday. [Everyone stares at Barry.] What I mean is, er, nothing ever happens on a Tuesday, does it?

Oz:
I think Newcastle won the Fairs Cup on a Tuesday.

Moxey:
I knew this bloke once who killed himself on a Tuesday.

Wayne:
[Bored] Been in here, had he?

Barry:
I think that's it up ahead.

Dennis:
Whaddaya mean ya "think"? Is it or isn't it?

Barry:
I'm not sure, I mean, none of the bloody roads have got names! [Consulting the map] I mean, we went right past the tennis ranch, right, then we took the left-hand fork down the unmade road. Then, it says here, after half a mile, the tarmac starts again, so you go up the hill, and it's the second villa.

Oz:
Has it got a name or anything?

Barry:
It doesn't say nothing.

Dennis:
This must be the one.

Oz:
Well, there's nae car about.

Dennis:
They might have gone into town.

Bomber:
Maybe they're round the back. [They go into the back garden.]

Dennis:
[Calls out] Hello? [No answer.]

Barry:
This is all very nice, innit? [They find the pool.]

Wayne:
Well, the pool's a bit small, ain't it?

Neville:
[Cranky] An' yours is Olympic size, is it? The one in your back yard in Tilbury?

Wayne:
[Points at Neville] Huh, what's wrong with her, eh? Got out of the wrong side of the bed, did she?

Neville:
Yeah, seventeen times! [Dennis looks into the villa through the patio doors.] D'ya think I slept with the racket you lot were making? At seven o'clock, them Spanish brickies were back on the job.

Oz:
Where was this?

Neville:
About three feet from my pillow!

Moxey:
Ah, we don't get that, we're all on the other side of the hotel.

Neville:
Who arranged that?

Dennis:
I did, Nev. Well, I thought the further away you and Brenda and the bairn were from the lads, the better, yer kna?

Bomber:
What's Ally want us to do, Dennis? I thought it wasn't supposed to be finished.

Dennis:
Er... he wants the swimming pool extending, and a terrace built.

Bomber:
[Sees there's a drop from the side of the pool to the ground below] Well, you can only build a terrace that way. [Points to the drop] Have to cantilever it.

Dennis:
Aye. He wants a cascade building over it as well, and a brick barbecue. [The lads start walking to the pool.]

Wayne:
Well, we should do that first. Then we can have barbecued chicken for lunch every day, eh?

Oz:
Well, I've gotta admit, Dennis, you certainly came up trumps for the boys in this one. This is, without doubt, the pleasantest building site I've ever worked on.

Barry:
Beats Dusseldorf hands down.

Oz:
Oh aye, an' we can have a dip every day an' all!

Barry:
Er, no. No, actually, no. Not if we're extending the pool we're not, unless you want to dive straight into a heap of rubble.

Oz:
Well, that's all the more reason to get in there now, innit?

Moxey:
Oh, yeah! Will that be all right, Den? Can we?

Dennis:
Well, I dunno, really. It's not our pool, is it?

Moxey:
Ah, hey, Den! We're not a bunch of lepers, y'know! It's not as if we're gonna pollute the bloody thing.

Oz:
Well, even if we dae, we'll be pulling the plug this afternoon, so... [Barry and Wayne check the temperature of the water.]

Barry:
Ah, I must admit, a dip would be very refreshing, wouldn't it, particularly before a hard day's graft. This sun'll be right overhead soon.

Wayne:
Yeah, and Ally said we should make out like tourists, didn't he?

Dennis:
[Thinks for a few seconds and looks around] Ah, howay then. [The lads cheer]

Moxey:
Ah, right!

Oz:
Right! [The lads, except Bomber, start taking their clothes off.]

Bomber:
Not me. Bomber can't swim.

Wayne:
Go on! [Oz pushes Bomber in the pool. Bomber quickly makes for the pool steps.]

Neville:
[Realising] Hey, hang on a minute. None of us has got cossies!

Oz:
It's not formal, man. Naked, as nature intended it to be.

Wayne:
That's right. [Takes his underpants off.] See, this way, I can get an all-over tan. [Dives into the pool. Barry and Neville quickly follow suit.]

Dennis:
I just hope that Vicky doesn't come out and find seven brickies' dongs floating in the water! [Bomber pulls something from the water's surface and is disgusted by it.]

Moxey:
Not on an empty stomach, no! [They're all in the pool now.]

Geoffrey:
Who does that belong to?

Pauline:
I've no idea.

Geoffrey:
[Briefly inspecting the minibus] Is it what's-his-name's day to do the pool?

Pauline:
No, he comes Thursdays.

Geoffrey:
Yes... But you know what they're like.

Pauline:
No, I know him. He's got that little yellow car. [Geoffrey hands two bottles of wine to Pauline and takes their box of shopping from the back seat of the car. He hears the commotion from their pool.]

Geoffrey:
Can you hear something?

Moxey:
Hey! Shall we have a go at that synchronised swimming? [Oz laughs] Get in the next team for the Olympics?

Oz:
That's bloody outrageous! That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever saw. All them tarts, covered in make-up, nose clips on, and it's supposed to be a bloody sport!

Moxey:
'Ey, come 'ead! Let's have a craic. Come on, let's form a circle.

Oz:
Ah well. You can be team leader. [The Oxlades run up the hill to their back garden, carrying their shopping with them.]

Moxey:
One, two, three... [The lads somersault, bottoms up! Geoffrey sees this.]

Geoffrey:
Good God! Pauline, don't come any further!

Pauline:
Who's in our pool?

Geoffrey:
[Putting the box down] I'll take care of this.

Oz:
Did we make the team? [The lads all laugh. Geoffrey approaches the pool.]

Geoffrey:
Hey! You lot!

Dennis:
[Swims up to the steps] Good morning!

Geoffrey:
[Furious] Never mind good morning! Can you explain who you are and what you're doing here?

Dennis:
[To the others] Hold it. Shut up, man! [To Geoffrey, as he gets out of the pool, hiding his modesty] We're er... we're waiting for Mr. Fraser.

Geoffrey:
Who?

Dennis:
Er... [Shouts at the others] Shut up, man, will you? Keep it down! [To Geoffrey] Is this not his villa?

Geoffrey:
No, it is not! It is mine. [Pauline approaches the pool as Oz gets out.]

Pauline:
[Shocked] Geoffrey, they're all naked!

Oz:
Well, it's not customary to wear a morning suit when you gan for a swim, missus.

Geoffrey:
If you're not out of here immediately, I shall call the Guardia Civil.

Dennis:
Now, look, pal, this has been.. this has been a legitimate mistake, yer kna. There's no need to go over the top. I mean, we're all Brits here.

Geoffrey:
You're the type of Britisher that caused my wife and I to retire here in the first place! [Geoffrey storms off.]

Fraser:
[Coming out of the villa] Where the hell have you been?

Oz:
Mornin'. [The lads get out of the minibus]

Dennis:
Sorry, Ally. We got lost.

Fraser:
[Noticing the lads' wet bodies and damp clothes] Have you guys been swimming?

Dennis:
Well, it's a long story, like.

Barry:
[Clutching the map] I think it's my fault, actually, Mr. Fraser, 'cos we were supposed to take a right, but I took a wrong left...

Fraser:
Right, right, fine. Lovely, lovely. Look, get your hairy arses 'round the back!

Bomber:
It's nice to think you could retire to somewhere like this. I suppose the best I could hope for is a caravan near Clevedon overlooking the Bristol Channel.

Neville:
At least people would talk to you there, Bomb. You'd have neighbours and friends. Where out here, you'd probably wind up next to some people like that couple who hoyed us out of their pool today.

Oz:
Aye. I know we were trespassing, like, but as soon as I seen his face I hate him. He's just the sort of person that makes you ashamed to be English.

Barry:
In all fairness, Oz, he probably feels exactly the same about you.

Oz:
What? Well, he shouldn't, should he? 'Cos I'm isn't. He is. He is. Every time I see his sort, the hairs on me back curl up!

Moxey:
Yeah. The bourgeoisie.

Oz:
Yeah. A prick, in my language. He's the sort of bloke who'd sit in the golf club all day, moaning and groaning, or write to the papers about [Posh accent] how people don't pull their weight. [Normal accent] Then what does he do when he cops his pension, eh? Whoosh! Body sweve doon to Spain so he'll not get collared wi' nae tax!

Barry:
Er, when did you last pay your income tax, Oz? Was it...

Oz:
What's that gotta do with anything?

Vicky:
I thought you lads might be a bit thirsty.

Oz:
Oh, San Miguel? [Wayne and Nev take a beer from the tray.]

Fraser:
Vicky, just bring that over here, will you? I'll take care of that. [She puts the tray on the table] There you go, gentlemen, help yourselves to a beer. I'll be with you in just a moment. Uno momento. Vicky? [Goes into the villa. Vicky follows.]

Wayne:
Always wondered what our Vicky would look like unwrapped.

Barry:
Oh, pathetic!

Fraser:
Look, Vicky, when we've got these cowboys around the place, it might look better if you didn't go around flaunting yourself.

Vicky:
[Looks down at her bikini-clad body] Who's flaunting?

Fraser:
D'ya think that bikini's the height of discretion? I used to use bigger plasters to cover my pimples.

Vicky:
Yes, well, you don't complain as a rule, do you? [Reclines on the sofa]

Fraser:
Well, as a rule, I don't have seven randy brickies running around the patio!

Vicky:
Well, there's going to be no point in going out is there? I mean, I cannae sunbathe, I cannae go for a swim 'cos there's nae water in the pool, I cannae play me records 'cos I cannae hear them for the concrete mixer...

Fraser:
Are the arrangements not to your liking, Vicky?

Vicky:
I'm just saying...

Fraser:
Is the villa no longer up to scratch? May I just remind you that two years ago, when you were a manicurist at Maison André, your idea of the holiday of a lifetime was a fortnight at Redcar!

Vicky:
Listen, I travelled before I met you, Ally Fraser. Me and me friend Barbara had two successive summers in Magaluf.

Fraser:
Och, well, in that case... In that case... [Picks up the phone and hands it to Vicky] Why don't you just give Barbara a bell? See if she's still got the tent!

Dennis:
Afternoon, Ally. Didn't expect to see you back this early. [Fraser produces a copy of The Sun.]

Oz:
Is that an English paper you got there?

Fraser:
That's right, Oz, I've got an English paper. Something I'd like to read to you here, boys, I don't want to take up too much of your valuable time. If you just gather around, please. [The lads down tools and gather round Fraser.] Right. Are we all sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin. [Reads from the paper] "Spain's Costa del Crime is still a haven for the growing band of Brits who Scotland Yard are," quote, "'anxious to question'. Kenny Ames, 47, who persists in denying he was Britain's King of Porn, continues to sun himself on his luxury yacht in Marbella."

Barry:
Ah, that sounds like the one we were on, is it?

Fraser:
[Continues reading] "No doubt, his companions, newly arrived from England are business associates." [He puts the paper down for the others to see.]

Moxey:
[Pointing to the photo] Hey, that's us!

Oz:
Hey, look at that! Centre spread!

Wayne:
I've seen much better photos of me than that one, though.

Neville:
What's Brenda's folks ganna say?

Fraser:
Dennis, read on.

Dennis:
[He picks up where Fraser left off.] "I spoke exclusively to the new arrivals in their luxury hotel."

Moxey:
In their what?!

Dennis:
"They were evasive about their reasons for being in Spain, one of them claiming that they were members of the Wolverhampton Aqualung Society." [Looks at Barry, then back at the paper.] "Research has shown that no such club exists. Meanwhile, police continue their search for the gang who pulled off the daring payroll robbery in Sheffield last week." [The lads voice their disdain.]

Bomber:
Who wrote that rubbish?

Dennis:
Er... Nick Wheeler.

Oz:
Wasn't that geezer who was buyin' all the booze in the bar the other neet called Nick?

Moxey:
Aye, it was, yeah.

Fraser:
Is this your idea of keeping a low profile?

Dennis:
Why, that story's a load of bollocks!

Fraser:
I know that, and I bet half of Fleet Street knows that, and in their effort to discredit this story they'll be down here buzzing 'round you like flies 'round a jam jar!

Neville:
Well, why don't we just tell 'em we're ordinary gadgys?

Fraser:
[Presses the paper to Neville's chest] Working on my villa, I suppose? Well that's precisely exactly what I'm trying to avoid, my friend!

Neville:
Oh. Sorry.

Dennis:
Wait a minute, I mean, we can still be ordinary gadgys. Just down here on holiday. We just have to make it look convincing, that's all.

Fraser:
And how do we do that, Dennis?

Dennis:
Well, er... you'd better give us the rest of the week off.

Geoffrey:
Good heavens! Look at this. [Gives the paper to Pauline, who looks at the photo.]

Pauline:
I'm not surprised. [Throws the paper onto the floor.] One only had to look at them.

Geoffrey:
I sometimes wonder if Worthing wouldn't have been a better idea.

Moxey:
Hello

Lionel:
Oh, hello, mate. Where's the rest of your mob, then?

Moxey:
Oh, er, they're on the beach. Could I have a lager, please?

Lionel:
Ah, that's a shame. Look, I've given it place of honour on the wall. [Shows Moxey the photo and headline from the previous episode pinned to the wall behind the bar.]

Moxey:
Oh, 'ey, we asked you not to do that. It's bloody embarrassin', y'know.

Leather:
[From behind his copy of The Sun] You'll get used to it, son.

Moxey:
Oh, hello, Mr. Leather.

Leather:
[Puts the paper down] Oh. Terry, please. And you're, er..?

Moxey:
Oh, er, Moxey. We didn't go courtin' that publicity, y'know.

Leather:
I'm sure you didn't. None of us goes chasing newsprint, do we? But, you see, if you adjourn over here suddenly, leaving a few question marks behind, it's bound to happen, ain't it?

Moxey:
Aye. S'pose so, yeah.

Leather:
And also, Moxey, what you've got to remember is that these people... [Points to his paper] ...these so-called gentlemen of the press are, in fact, the scum of the earth. You wouldn't say hello to 'em on a lonely day.

Moxey:
Very true, Terry. [Leather picks up his glass] 'Ere, what's that you're drinkin'? Er, Scotch, is it?

Leather:
Yeah, cheers. [Finishes his Scotch] Malt.

Moxey:
[To Lionel] Er, a malt for, er, Terry and, er, I'll have a lager, please.

Lionel:
[To the barmaid] Jenny? Serve the gentleman, love.

Leather:
You see, these people do not have one iota of respect for privacy of the individual. [Scoffs] Let me tell you, lad, Princess Di, Joan Collins and Hurricane Higgins? They've got my upmost sympathy for the intrustions that they incur.

Moxey:
People always wanna have a got a you when you're famous, don't they?

Lionel:
Yeah, some of those no-marks made a bob or two out of your exploits, eh, Tel?

Leather:
Don't remind me! There was this geezer lived down our street in Ilford, see. Now, I have met that bloke twice, right? Once when I picked my little girl up from his kid's bonfire night party, and once when he borrowed my hovering lawnmower. Well, next thing I know, he's... he's managed to stretch these brief encounters into three instalments of "The Villain on My Doorstep"! [Chuckles]

Moxey:
Aye, we certainly learnt our lesson. We're keepin' our heads down from now on.

Lionel:
Ah, so you'll be staying down here for a bit, will you?

Moxey:
Well, I think the others will be movin' on, like, y'know, but, er, I'm gonna stick around for a while, yeah.

Leather:
You'll be needing a drum, then.

Moxey:
You what? Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Leather:
Well, what you got in mind? A villa? Condo?

Moxey:
Somethin' like that, yeah.

Leather:
Listen, Moxey, anything you want, feel free. Investment advice, real estate, a new motor. I mean, we know a few people. D'you understand me?

Moxey:
Thanks, Terry. Thanks very much. Actually, there is somethin' you could, er, help us out with, like.

Leather:
Sure.

Moxey:
Er, it might sound a bit soft, but er... don't know of any plasterin' jobs goin' round 'ere, d'you?

Leather:
Now, hang on, you can't be short of a few bob, surely?

Moxey:
No? No! It's just a way of, er... passin' the time, like.

Leather:
Ah, I don't understand you Northern lads. Must be all that Hovis you eat!

Oz:
[Shouts to Wayne] Oi-oi, London! What's happenin'? Owt you can't handle, send 'em up to me. [Wayne returns to the lads.]

Wayne:
Not much joy out there, Oz. See, they're Norwgeian, ain't they, and you know what your only point of reference is when you're Norwegian, don't ya?

Oz:
What's that?

Wayne:
Open deck sarnie, ain't it?

Bomber:
They're Danish.

Wayne:
You what?

Bomber:
Danish.

Wayne:
Well, that's probably why they're a bit sticky, then, innit?

Sid:
Hello, lads!

Ronnie:
Sorry to interrupt, but I can see you're busy.

Oz:
Who are you?

Sid:
[Pulls out a dictaphone] Have you lads got a few words to say to the press?

Oz:
[Scoffs] Aye, yes. I've got two, and the second one's "off".

Bomber:
Go on and beat it. We're in enough trouble because of you buggers.

Ronnie:
We know about that, but we want to help you lads.

Wayne:
Here, you wouldn't happen to know the Norwegian for "Can I get into your knickers?", would you? [Chuckles]

Sid:
Look, the more you stall us, the more difficult it's gonna be for you in the end.

Oz:
Look, look. [To Wayne] Gan have a swim. [Wayne walks off. To the journalists] Look, that rubbish in the papers wasn't true, right? It was a load of crap, alright? We're not bank robbers, man, for Christ's sake!

Ronnie:
Lovely, we wanna believe that too, so we can write spoilers on that crap Nick Wheeler wrote.

Sid:
So, just tell us who you really are and what you're doing here, and we'll all go home. [Holds his dictaphone right in Oz's face]

Oz:
Just mind yer own business! [Shoves the dictaphone away.]

Ronnie:
Hey, hey, you're not helping us, son!

Bomber:
Look, boyos, what that bloke wrote was a load of cobblers. We know it, so why should we have to prove it to you?

Sid:
So we can deny it on your behalf.

Wayne:
[Returns] Oh yeah? So the other mob can deny it again, and erm, it's a vicious circle, innit?

Oz:
'Ere, I've had enough of these bastards! [Snatches the dictaphone from Douglas] I'm gonna bury them in the sand, head first, eh?

Ronnie:
Hey, hold on, hold on.

Oz:
Head first! [Takes the tape out of the dictaphone and throws it away, before throwing the dictaphone away.]

Ronnie:
Here, hold on, son!

Oz:
'Ere? What?

Ronnie:
We can always head back to England and write you up as holidaying scroungers from the dole queue!

Oz:
[Menacingly] Can yer?

Sid:
It's all right! It's all right, it'll probably take a day or two to realise it's all in your own... [Turns round and sees Bomber stood up and glaring down at him.] ...Come on, Ronnie! [The two journalists run away.]

Bomber:
Remind me not to buy the English papers when I get home!

Barry:
Incredible this place, innit? It's like Bermondsey transported to the Costa del Sol.

Oz:
I was standin' at the bar there before getting the bevvies. A bloke comes up, says, "tooled up on yer last job, were ya, Geordie?" "Oh, aye, I had two trowels, a spirit level..." [Laughs, but notices Barry doesn't] He never laughed at it, neither.

Barry:
Desperate people.

Oz:
You can say that again. [Points out a group of women.] Look at these here. You can just tell by lookin' at them that they've spent the best part of their married life behind an ironing board in some poxy tower block, yer kna, husband in an' oot the nick all the time, but just manages to keep everything together with the promise of one big last job, and then it'll be off skiing, the sunshine, champagne. Yer kna, all that. And then it comes off, they gets here, and what do they dae? Recreate all the squalor they wanted to piss off from in the first place!

Barry:
[Shakes his head] What a futile existence, eh? No need to work, but no real way of enjoying themselves, except from getting pissed and maudlin about London.

Oz:
Fish oot of water, man, isnit?

Barry:
I wonder what their kids do for schooling.

Oz:
[Scoffs] God knas.

Barry:
Perhaps their dads teach them. [They laugh.]

Oz:
Oh, you can just imagine that, can't you? "All right, now, son, here's the question: If yer daddy and yer Uncle Terry and yer Uncle Arthur stick up an armoured car for half a million quid in the Mile End Road, how much does that leave them with each? And you can use yer fingers." [Chuckles]

Christine:
We're not saying anything.

Sid:
All we want to do, love, is clear the air. I mean, all this must be very embarrasing for you back home. Is it?

Christine:
No. What's embarrassing is having to answer questions from people like you. Now, look, we didn't invite you in here, and we'd be very obliged if you'd kindly leave. [Dennis and Neville enter the villa.]

Dennis:
Who the hell are you?

Sid:
[Gets out of the armchair] It's all right, it's all right. Press.

Dennis:
No, it's not all right! What are you doing here?

Neville:
[To Brenda and Christine] Have they been asking you questions?

Brenda:
We didn't tell them anything, Neville.

Sid:
Neville Hope and Dennis Patterson. Is that right?

Neville:
It's about the only thing you blokes have got right.

Ronnie:
Oh, smarten up, son. We know you're not villains.

Sid:
As we were saying to your ladies, all we want to do is clear the air, get at the truth.

Neville:
Oh, howay, we might as well. Gan on, tell 'em, Dennis.

Dennis:
Alright, I am Dennis Patterson, this is Neville Hope. We're brickies, we're from Newcastle and we're here on holiday. That's it. Come on. [Motions for the journalists to leave.]

Ronnie:
And what about the rest of the gang?

Dennis:
They're all bricklayers too. We met out in Germany a few years back, and er, this is like a reunion, innit?

Neville:
Yeah.

Sid:
Right, we'll need names and home addresses so the London desk can check out their backgrounds.

Dennis:
Well, some of these addresses might be a bit vague. Let's see... There's erm, Mr. Osbourne, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Norris, Mr. Busbridge, and, er... what's the name of your mate, Nev, with the spotty face?

Oz:
[Head in hands] Dear me, I thought I'd ne'er thought I'd see the day I'd be glad I couldn't get a fry-up! [Coughs loudly. Moxey, also hungover, joins them. Oz laughs] Don Juan! [Barry stirs his coffee noisily.] D'yer have to do that? D'yer have to do that... so loud?

Barry:
Ah, sorry. [Takes the spoon out and taps the top of his mug a few times. Oz winces.]

Bomber:
Oh, what was that bloody stuff we were drinking last night?

Oz:
Never mind what we were drinking, it was what them bastard groupies was guzzlin' in that done all the damage! [Reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money.] I've got about three pound left.

Moxey:
Maybe we should rob a payroll wagon after all. [Carlos brings Moxey a coffee.]

Barry:
That remark is in very poor taste, if you don't mind me saying so, Moxey. If it wasn't for people like you glamourising criminal activity, we wouldn't be pestered by the press, would we? Or exploited by those vacuous females last night.

Oz:
That didn't stop ye stickin' yer heid in the door, did it? See if there was any exploitin' to be done, eh?

Bomber:
Well, if we can't go out, and we can't stay in, there's not much point in being here, is there?

Barry:
Nah. We're not tourists. We're not workers. We're trapped. We're in limbo!

Oz:
They divvn't limbo here, man. They flamenco. [Chuckles, then coughs.]

Bomber:
Barry's got a point though, eh? Leisure without graft has got a pretty hollow ring.

Moxey:
Well, none of this is actually helping to decide what we're gonna do today though, is it? [Gets out of his chair to go to the breakfast buffet] Don't think I can face another day of sunlight, sangria... [Clutches his stomach] ...or food, either. [Carefully sits back down.]

Barry:
I've just had an absolutely brilliant idea. Why don't we hire a couple of cars and hit the road? Eh? Toddle off down to Gibraltar, it's not far you know, border's open now. What do you think?

Bomber:
There'd be cheap British beer, duty frees, and today's papers too.

Moxey:
Papers are still a sore point, you know, Bomb.

Oz:
Aye, g'wan, I'm up for it. I've alwayd wanted me photo taken with them... with them baboons.

Barry:
Right... [Gets some money from his pocket.] Here is my contribution. I suggest you three pool your resources as well. I'll go and wake Wayne up. [Gets up.] If he's interested, I'll get a hire car brochure in Reception. [Leaves the bar.]

Oz:
I wonder if they do a five-seater Porsche?

Fraser:
Any thoughts on lunch, my petal?

Vicky:
Well, your good mood's lasting surprisingly well. [Sees Oz and Bomber] Oh look, there's a couple of your lads!

Fraser:
Oh, what in the name of God are they doing here? Just don't look at them! [Turns away] I don't want them coming over here.

Vicky:
It's nice to see there's someone else yer ashamed of bein' seen with, as well as me(!)

Oz:
Pepe? If yer can walk and walk at the same time, get a couple of beers oot the fridge.

Barman:
[On the phone] Espera, te llamo en un segundo, yeah? (Hang on, I'll call you in a second, yeah?) [The Oxlades are shocked to see Oz and Bomber here. Pepe puts the phone done.] Yes, er... gentlemen?

Bomber:
Two beers, matey, por favour.

Barman:
Dos cervezas... [Gets two beers from under the counter]

Bomber:
Gracias.

Oz:
That's what he said.

Pauline:
How they've got the brass neck to come in here, I do not know!

Geoffrey:
[Clutching his Bloody Mary] I suppose it's their idea of fun to sport their ill-gotten gains in this manner.

Pauline:
Geoffrey, are you going to do something?

Geoffrey:
Yes, Pauline, I will. And I'm already composing a strong letter to The Times!

Oz:
[To the barman] Any chance of getting them poured, or does that cost more in here? [The barman doesn't respond. He tills up, a lot of beeps come from the till.]

Bomber:
I don't like the sound of that, Oz.

Barman:
Will the gentlemen be staying for lunch?

Bomber:
The gentlemen haven't decided yet.

Barman:
In that case, if the gentlemen would be so kind. [Hands them their bill.]

Oz:
[Checks the bill and burps.] What's this? We asked for two beers, man, not twenty-two!

Barman:
The gentlemen are free to drink elsewhere if they wish.

Oz:
[Digs into his pocket. He turns round as he does... and notices Fraser and Vicky] Oh, there's Fraser! [Fraser facepalms] Ally! Ally! [He gets up] All right? Is it all right if we stick these on your account?

Fraser:
And, eh, what are you two tearaways doing here, eh?

Bomber:
Acting like tourists, Mr. Fraser, on your orders.

Oz:
But we could do with a sub, like, if you don't mind.

Fraser:
[Getting some money out of his wallet] Well, just drink up and move on out before my reputation in Marbella is ruined. [Geoffrey confronts them.]

Geoffrey:
Let me guess...

Fraser:
Oh, no...

Geoffrey:
Planning another bank robbery, are we?

Oz:
Oh, I remember this prick!

Fraser Oh, for Christ's sake!

Geoffrey:
Now look here, you may enjoy immunity from arrest in this country, but you are not immune from our contempt as decent British citizens!

Bomber:
Careful, boyo, you're way off mark.

Geoffrey:
Oh, am I? And I suppose the newspaper report was too?

Oz:
I'm surprised that ye reading a rag like that! I usually keep that one wedged behind a pipe in the bog!

Bomber:
[Stands up to Geoffrey] Yep, the matter's in the hands of our lawyers, see? And they'll be quite happy to take an action for slander as well.

Geoffrey:
[Feeling threatened] I refuse to be intimidated by you. You may have wealth now, criminally acquired of course, but that doesn't entitle you to.. to.. to.. [loudly] strut around here! Even if you were invited.

Oz:
Oh, I've had enough of this!

Fraser:
It's all right, sir. They're just on the very point of leaving.

Oz:
I'm not gannin naewhere! I'm not gannin naewhere, I'm talkin' about I've had enough of this bastard, Colonel Blimp! [To Geoffrey] Look, you, just suppose wor were bank robbers, right? At least wor crime's honest, isnit? It's up front at the end of a barrel where we get wor dough, whereas bastards like you, where do you get yours? On a balance sheet, or fiddlin' your friggin' income tax return!

Fraser:
[Attempting to quietly leave with Vicky] I think we'll skip lunch, Vicky. [They are stopped by the barman.]

Barman Your friend by the pool, he has ordered champagne. Who's paying? [Oz burps as Fraser looks around, realises it's Wayne who's ordered, and rolls his eyes.]

Dennis:
Why do I all of a sudden get a dreadful feeling, Nev? Yer kna, like Oz is sticking pins in a Dennis Patterson doll.

Fraser:
[Arrives on the sun terrace with a newspaper. He's very pissed off.] D'you know? Your boys are wasted in the building industry, Dennis! You ought to be organising military coups in a banana republic!

Dennis:
What's the matter?

Neville:
Has someone been in bother, like?

Fraser:
Oh no, nothing like that, no. They've just spent half an hour slagging off some of the most influential members of Marbella society, of which I am no longer a member!

Dennis I thought it was a bit too good to last, like.

Fraser:
Aye, well you can whistle 'em all back out now because your true and humble status has been revealed to a grateful nation! [Drops the paper beside Dennis.]

Dennis:
Right, first thing in the morn, I'll get them back to work.

Fraser:
No, I've got a better idea, Dennis. Let's have a night shift!

Moxey:
Go 'round to The Office? You sure that's a good idea now they know who we really are?

Bomber:
Oh, I dunno. Ally said they'd still make us welcome. Apparently, they understood we're victims of a press smear. In fact, they symphathise with us.

Neville:
Aye, might be some money in it for us, an' all. A few little jobs.

Barry:
[Scoffs] Probably want us to double-glaze their houses with bulletproof glass.

Bomber:
Don't suppose there'd be any harm in it. Nothing to lose now. Our stigmas have been cleansed.

Moxey:
I'm not sure, y'know.

Neville:
Howay, Mox, man! We didn't give your name to the paper! As far as Terry Leather or anybody else is concerned, you're still a man of mystery.

Dennis:
Right, lads. Listen, we'll just play it cool, right? See what they want, and if we don't like the smell of it, we'll politely decline. Okay? [Around the corner from The Office, they spot someone on the roof with a long-lens camera taking photos of them.]

Oz:
Oh, another bloody journalist! [The lads rush through a door and confront the photographer. Oz snatches the camera]]

Dennis:
Just... calm down! [Oz doesn't listen, he throws the camera off the roof.]

Oz:
[To the 'photographer'] When are you bastards gonna stop pickin' on wor, eh?

Moxey:
Yeah! Why don't yer leave us alone, you shifty sod? We ain't done nuthin'!

Dennis:
Which particular comic do you work for, anyway? [The 'photographer' takes out his Metropolitan Police ID badge]

British Detective:
Shall we say the Police Review?

Oz:
[Takes the ID badge and examines it.] What, you're the Old Bill, are ya?

British Detective:
Scotland Yard Surveillance Squad. And if this wasn't Spain, Albert Arthur Moxey, alias Brendan Mulcahy, arsonist and absconder, your arse would be well and truly nicked!

Bomber:
Off limits, boyo.

Wayne:
Oh, I'm not so sure, Bomb. I mean, at Ally's party, you know, in Geordieland, I definitely got a flash off that one.

Bomber:
You mess around with her and bollocks it up for the rest of us, you'll have more than a flash off me, Wayne!

Wayne:
Eh? Don't sermonise me, Bomb! You're not past a bit of lechery yourself. I saw you the other night, down the casino. Two young travel agents from Preston, eh? [Chuckles]

Bomber:
Nothin' I did with them is gonna come back on us lot. [Quiet for sternly] Off limits!

Vicky:
[Now on the terrace] Mornin', lads.

Moxey:
[Hard at work on the tiling in the pool with Neville] Hello.

Neville:
How do.

Dennis:
[Stops what he's doing] Right, I'll not be long.

Vicky:
[Inspecting the lads' work] Eee, mind, this place is comin' on. You'll be finished here soon.

Oz:
[Chucking rocks from the deep end to the terrace] Aye, we divvn't hang aboot, us lot, yer kna.

Vicky:
Er... what are you ganna do when the job's finished, Oz?

Oz:
Me? I don't kna. S'pose I'll have to gan back and... face the grim reality of Margaret Thatcher's Britain. [Has a swig of his beer.] Unless your Ally coughs up a finishin' bonus, like. Then I can postpone it... for a week.

Vicky:
An', er... take off somewhere, like?

Oz:
Ah, well, me an' Barry had planned tae have a slow tovy back through France. But now with his, yer kna, fiancée, we've had to give La Français the big E, so to speak. So, I'll be on me own, as usual.

Barry:
I'm... very sorry if my personal affairs have intruded on your plans, Oz(!)

Oz:
Not my plans, pal. You were the one that wanted to gan an' see the shite hooses of the Loire.

Barry:
Chateaux, Oz.

Vicky:
'Ey, I've always fancied San Tropez, meself. I think there's more nightlife. An', I mean, well, it's more sophisticated than this, like, isn'it?

Moxey:
Oh, aye, yeah. Definitely. Give me San Tropez every time!